


Green Laurel

by VR_Trakowski



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 89,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VR_Trakowski/pseuds/VR_Trakowski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It will not be long, love...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Most of the characters and situations in this story belong to Marvel Comics, Fairview Entertainment, Dark Blades Films, NBC, and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. All others belong to me, and if you want to borrow them, you have to ask me first. Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.
> 
> Yet another cliché; I can't seem to resist 'em. Heaps of abject thanks to Cincoflex for putting up with this thing for over a year now, encouraging, poking, rereading, admonishing, and generally being the wonderful enthusiastic person that she is! Many thanks also to Laura27md for last-minute reassurance and a parallax view. Please note, I did not always take their excellent advice! Also, the rating may change later. 
> 
> Additional notes: This was written after the first movie and is now AU. Due to request, I will be posting chapter by chapter, but the whole thing is available elsewhere if you prefer.

The voice mail icon was blinking at him. Again.

Tony ignored it the same way he had ignored the five previous ones, but it went on flashing with mindless patience, almost as irritating as the man who'd sent it. But Tony was completely uninterested in talking to Agent Phil Coulson, so when he'd finished the latest round of soldering he leaned over to slide a forefinger across the touch screen and drop the icon into the trash.

_I told Fury nothing doing until I clean up Stane's mess. SHIELD can go fuck itself._

"Jarvis," he said absently, "shunt all further voice mails from any member of SHIELD straight to the trash. And don't let them get through on Pepper's number at all." If he wasn't careful she'd schedule him for a _meeting_ with that pack of weirdos, and Tony just didn't have the time to spend right now. In the back of his mind he thought it could be kind of a nifty idea, if it were run right, but he had bigger fish to fry at the moment.

He was so busy that it took him another hour to notice that Pepper hadn't yet appeared.

Normally she came down to the workshop and nagged him about something by midmorning if he hadn't gone upstairs already, but when he looked up from the suit schematics it was almost noon and there was no sign of his normally annoyingly punctual personal assistant.

He frowned, puzzled. "Jarvis? What's Pepper up to right now?"

"I do not know," the AI answered. "She is not in the house."

 _That_ made Tony sit back. "What do you mean? Is she running an errand?" It wasn't like her to go someplace without at least telling Jarvis first.

"She has not yet arrived at the house today," Jarvis said. "No reason has been given."

 _No reason?_ "What exactly did she say when she called?"

Jarvis' tone was patient. "Pepper has not called any of the lines this morning."

Tony frowned, unease stirring. _Pepper_ _ **always**_ _calls. What the hell, is she sick?_

The thought alarmed him, because a Pepper too sick to call and let them know she wouldn't be in was a Pepper dangerously ill. "Call her."

A moment's pause, and then-- "Her phone is going directly to voice mail."

"Home phone," Tony ordered. "And put it on speaker."

Jarvis complied, and Tony listened to the four rings before the voice mail click. _"Hello, you have reached 310-555-4310. I'm not available, so leave a message."_

When the beep came, Tony spoke. "Pepper, where the hell are you? Call me." Standing up, he reached for a shirt to cover the arc reactor poking through the hole in his sleeveless tee. "Jarvis, save and close. I'm going over there."

He half-ran up the stairs while Jarvis shut down the holographic display. _I don't like this at all._ Pepper was _important,_ whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not, and he was suddenly having visions of her fevered or unconscious or both, passed out on her bathroom floor or too sick to move.

He went directly to the little office she'd set up in one of the suites. Tony didn't usually mess with Pepper's desk, but he knew her, and there had to be a set of spare keys in there somewhere--she was just too careful to not have at least one backup.

The first desk drawer he opened held office supplies and letterhead, but the second had more personal items. Tony pulled out a shallow box that held a hairbrush and various elastics, and grinned as he spotted the keys underneath. Grabbing them, he dropped the box back into place and shoved the door shut.

As he left her office, though, Jarvis spoke again. "There is an incoming call from Mr. Hogan."

"Take a message," Tony directed, heading for the stairs. "I'll drive myself."

"I suggest you do otherwise, sir. He says it is an emergency."

"Ngh." Tony stopped, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, patch me in."

"Sir?" Hogan's voice was hoarse and uneven, and Tony's concern suddenly doubled.

"I'm here. What's the matter? You okay, Happy?"

"No...I mean, yeah, I'm all right, but it's not...we got carjacked, sir. This morning."

Tony frowned at nothing. "Carjacked? Where are you calling from? And what--wait a minute, what do you mean _we?_ "

Ice filled his veins as Hogan answered, the chauffeur's voice full of pain. "Ms. Potts and I. Her car wouldn't start so she called me to pick her up. We got jumped on the back route..." His voice faded for a moment. "I woke up but I don't know where she is. She's not here."

He'd been scared before. He'd gotten to know fear very well indeed in Afghanistan, but never had it felt quite like this--like the earth was opening right in front of his feet. The deadly calm of his own voice surprised him. "Where are you now?"

"Queen of the Valley...sir, I'm..."

"I'll be right there." Tony made a cutting motion he knew his computer would pick up, and ran back down the stairs, only hitting every other one. "Jarvis..."

"Sir, I do not think the suit is an appropriate response at this time," Jarvis said uneasily.

Tony didn't slow down. "The hell it's not, but it doesn't do me any good without a fucking _target._ " He skidded to a stop next to the Audi and flung the door open, dropping into the seat and deliberately belting up, because the speed he intended to employ required safety measures. "Get on this. Find out what you can. Hack the police bands if you have to, I want every possible scrap of information available. Relay to me as soon as you have something."

He slammed the door and revved the engine, and left marks on the floor peeling out.

The drive to the hospital was a blur of fast lane changes and angry honks. Tony spared only as much attention as needed to driving, the rest of his mind racing furiously.

_Pepper._

Extrapolating from what Hogan had said, the limo had been ambushed and Hogan knocked out. Pepper's location was unknown. It was completely and totally _unacceptable,_ and the screaming fear and rage in his head and chest was only just in check, because until he had more data there was nothing Tony could do.

Fortunately for his fraying temper and the hospital's legal team, Happy was in a regular bed, not the ICU, which meant he could have non-family visitors. The chauffeur was Tony's employee, not Stark Industries', but he had the same health insurance that SI executives got, and that meant a private room.

Happy was sitting on, not in, the bed when Tony blew into the room; his face was greenish pale and he sported a bandage over one ear. His expression was agonized. "Mr. Stark--"

Tony held up a hand. "First things first. How are you?"

Happy shrugged, and winced. "Head hurts. I'll live."

Tony nodded. "Take it from the top."

The chauffeur rubbed the back of his neck. "She called for a pickup when her car wouldn't start. I got there just before seven; the highway was a parking lot so we took the back way."

Tony knew the route Hogan was talking about; it was a coastal road that went through some pretty uninhabited stretches. Hogan lowered his hand and continued. "We were the only car for about a mile, I guess, when we got pulled over by a motorcycle cop. At least that's what they wanted us to think."

He looked up at Tony, eyes full of more pain than that of his injuries. "It was the usual thing, license and registration, and Ms. Potts rolled down the divider to ask what was going on. He tossed something in, some kind of fumer, because it stank like hell and we both started choking."

Tony's hands clenched into fists, but he didn't interrupt. Hogan was the best lead he had.

"I jumped the sonofabitch and we both went down, but he got in a lucky hit with his nightstick. When I opened my eyes the limo was gone and there was a whole van full of migrant workers standing around me." Hogan's mouth twitched slightly. "Two of 'em held me still until the EMTs got there. I wasn't too pleased at the time but I wasn't thinking too straight either."

A small part of Tony's mind made a mental note to find out who the good Samaritans were, because in his book people who helped _his_ people deserved a reward. But most of his attention was elsewhere. "Did they see where the limo went?"

Happy started to shake his head and then clearly thought better of it. "No, it was long gone."

With Pepper inside--and, it seemed, gassed. "All right." He thought rapidly for a moment. "The limo has GPS and a tracker, and Pepper's phone has a locator chip. That's a start; they might toss the GPS but I doubt they'll know to look for the car's tracker." He needed to call Jarvis _right now._ "If you think of anything else--"

Hogan pushed himself to his feet. "Sir, I'm coming with--"

Tony put a quick hand under Hogan's elbow as the chauffeur swayed dizzily. "You're staying _here,_ at least until you can walk without your eyes crossing." He gave Hogan a stern look.

"You'll need help." Hogan wasn't giving up easily, but he was clearly unwell.

"I've got Jarvis. I'll get Rhodey. You're staying until the doctors say you can leave." It was a measure of Hogan's injuries that Tony was able to push him back down on the bed. Every nerve was screaming at him to go find Pepper _now,_ but he had a responsibility to Happy too.

Hogan swallowed hard and relented, closing his eyes and turning greener still. "They were pros, sir," he said, barely above a whisper. "It was smooth."

Tony nodded tightly, even though Hogan couldn't see him. "Right." He patted the man's shoulder once. "Rest up. We'll keep you posted."

"Thank you." Hogan seemed to melt into the mattress. "You find her."

Tony whirled, and left the room at a pace just short of a run.

 _If the drug made him sick, what's it doing to Pepper?_ The thought was another coal in his fear-fueled rage. He fumbled for his phone, cursed when he saw one of the signs that forbade its use, and picked up speed.

As soon as he had the engine running, Tony activated the voice-response system and called Jarvis, telling him to scan for the tracking devices. Then he called Rhodey.

The colonel was not pleased to be interrupted in the middle of a meeting, but he snapped to attention at the news. "Damn, Tony. Pepper, she-- Have you called the cops yet?"

"What are they going to do that Jarvis can't?" Tony snapped. "This has to be a ransom snatch, or they would have just killed her on the spot."

"Yeah." Tony could hear the doubt in Rhodey's voice, but he refused to pay attention. The same doubt was lurking in his own mind, steadfastly ignored--the idea that Pepper might have been taken as part of a revenge scheme. Killing someone immediately didn't offer the same opportunities as dragging hope out. "I'm on my way--where are you now?"

"Headed back home. Jarvis should have something by the time I get there." Tony swerved deftly around a slower car. "Meet me there."

He beat Rhodey to the house, but not by much--the colonel's truck pulled up in the garage just as Tony was climbing out of his own. Tony didn't spare him a glance. "Jarvis, report," he ordered.

"I have located both Pepper's cellphone and the limousine's tracker, though the GPS appears to be off." Jarvis' voice was crisp. "The phone is stationary, approximately thirteen miles north-northeast of here. The tracker is some seventy miles further, and is moving."

"Good. Load both sets of coordinates into the suit and let's get going." Tony yanked open the drawer where he kept the neoprene liners he wore underneath the armor.

"You sure you don't want to call the police?" Rhodey asked uneasily. "They have a lot more experience in this kind of thing."

Tony bared his teeth at his friend. "I've _been_ kidnapped, Rhodey, that's plenty of experience." He started stripping down on the spot. "We don't have any time to waste. You'd better follow me on the ground." Tony could, if necessary, carry a passenger while flying, but only if the passenger were conscious enough to hold on.

"Gotcha." Rhodes headed back to his truck. Tony briefly considered offering him a faster vehicle, then decided against it; the truck could handle going off-road, if it came to that.

The assembly platform was opening as Jarvis prepped the armor. Tony shrugged into the liner, zipped it up, and strode over to put himself in his robots' appendages.

_Hang on, Pepper. I'm coming._

************************

_Don't,_ Virginia thought to herself sternly. _Don't, don't, don't._

In the uncertainty behind her closed eyes, the admonition could mean many things. Don't panic, don't move, don't vomit. To a degree it meant all of them. Virginia lay very still, trying to cultivate limpness, and clenched her teeth on the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her.

The tape over her mouth could kill her if she lost control over her stomach, and she breathed as deeply and as silently as she could through her stinging nose. Fortunately, the air she sucked in was cool, and her stomach settled a little.

She didn't need to know what was going on; Virginia remembered all too clearly Happy being stopped by a motorcycle cop who wasn't. She even remembered him tackling the fake officer, but that was when the gas had taken her out. _I hope he's all right--_

Her throat was dry and her mouth tasted terrible; whatever gas they'd used seemed to have burned her nose. But she couldn't detect any other injuries.

Virginia took as much stock of her surroundings as she could without moving. She was lying on something relatively soft, if lumpy, and her hands--bound behind her back--were pressed between herself and something equally soft. _A couch?_

The air was cool, yes, but had a closed, indoor sort of smell. And there were voices, muffled slightly by distance or a barrier. But before she could concentrate enough to try to make out what was being said, they fell silent.

There was something over her eyes as well, Virginia realized; something light and loose. She opened her eyes cautiously, and saw nothing, her lashes brushing the blindfold. _Well, that's reassuring. Sort of._

A blindfold meant that her captors didn't want her to see them, which might mean that they intended to release her eventually. A small hope, but it was something, anyway.

Whatever was binding her wrists was tight and thin--not so much as to cut off her circulation, but enough that she couldn't wriggle free. Her ankles were bound too, she realized, and couldn't suppress a shiver. _I'm effectively helpless._

Her shoes were gone, but as far as she could tell she was still wearing the same clothes, which was also reassuring. _It's a good thing I chose slacks this morning instead of a skirt..._

A voice nearby almost made her flinch. "She awake yet?" Cold, male, brusque.

A younger voice, also male, answered. "She was moving a minute ago, but she stopped."

The first voice grunted. Virginia heard footsteps, and managed to keep from reacting when a hand gripped her shoulder and shook her. Then fingers were fumbling along her cheek, and with a brutal tug the tape was ripped away.

Virginia couldn't help her gasp. It felt like the top layer of her skin had been pulled off with the tape, but it was a relief to take a deep breath. The grunt came again, this time satisfied. The hand on her shoulder tightened--not cruelly, but just short of it. "You awake now?"

There didn't seem any point in denying it, so Virginia licked her dry lips--the adhesive tasted bitter--and spoke. "Yes." Her voice was a croak.

"Good. Listen up. We don't want to hurt you, so as long as you cooperate, you'll be fine. Just do as you're told and don't make trouble, and you could be home in a day or two." The hand squeezed. "Understand me?"

Virginia nodded jerkily.

"Good," he said again, and let go. The footsteps retreated, and a door closed. Virginia lay still, knowing that there was still someone in the room, but her throat was as dry as her lips and eventually she had to ask.

"Can I--can I have something to drink?"

Her voice didn't even sound like her own, and Virginia realized that below her veneer of logic was an absolute cold terror.

"Yeah, I guess so." The younger male sounded more bored than anything else. She heard a few unidentifiable rattles, and then the click of a bottle being twisted open. A moment later an awkward arm slid under her, lifting her upright on the couch.

It was hard to balance with her hands behind her back and her ankles together, but Virginia managed, feeling chilly concrete under her stockinged toes but more focused on the promised drink than anything else. She felt the mouth of the bottle brush her lips, and angled her head as the man tilted it.

Water--warm, but sweet. Virginia wanted to gulp, but her stomach was still uneasy, so she settled for a few swallows. A couple of drops dribbled out of the corner of her mouth, and she licked them away hastily. "That's enough." After a second, she added "Thank you."

Being polite was about the last thing she wanted to do, but it might make a difference.

"Yeah." The man moved away, and judging from the sounds sat down again. A faint rustle of paper hinted at a magazine.

Virginia smothered a belch from her unhappy stomach, and tried to breathe slowly. _Hyperventilating is not going to help, Virginia._

Her mind was still spinning, trying to process what had happened. It was pretty clear that she was being held for a reason, and the target was more than obvious. _Tony._

Virginia wondered if he even knew she'd been taken. She wondered if Happy was all right, or hurt, or dead--or a captive as well. She wondered what Tony's response would be when he found out she was being used as leverage against him.

She wondered if she was going to get out of this alive. And if she would ever even see anything again.

"The man with me," she ventured a while later. "Can you tell me if he's all right?"

The flip of a page reached her ears. "I'm not s'posed to talk to you," the voice said disinterestedly.

 _Nice try._ It was hard work sitting up with little balance and no sight, and her head hurt. Slowly, guessing, Virginia lay carefully down on her other side, trying to angle herself so that her face was outward. The couch still wasn't very comfortable, but horizontal was better than vertical, and Virginia tried to relax.

 _If Tony has any sense, he'll tell them to kiss off._ That would be the practical, if cold-blooded, thing to do.

But she knew her boss too well. If nothing else, Tony would see her abduction as a blow to his pride, and she very much feared that the kidnappers had just unleashed a mechanized suit of super-armor driven by a very angry man.

 _They have to know. They have to have prepared for Iron Man._ And the thought made _her_ blood run cold, because that either meant lethal force on a scale she didn't want to even consider, or it meant that she was so well concealed that even the combined might of Tony Stark and Stark Industries--and presumably the police--couldn't find her.

Either way, it didn't look good. Not for Tony, not for the kidnappers, and not for her.

Closing her straining eyes, Virginia tried not to shiver.

She was more than half-dozing when the door opened again and someone stomped in. "Get her up," the cold voice ordered, and Virginia mentally dubbed him Number One.

The second man, Number Two, thumped closer. The bonds on her ankles were cut through with a snap, and then she was being hoisted to her feet. A hand wrapped around her bicep in a tight grip, but she was grateful for the support as she stumbled. Then he was propelling her forward, not too fast.

Virginia remembered.

_The main floor was dark but for the flicker of the fire in the grate and the arc reactor's glow. She'd gotten caught up in work in her office in the mansion, and only her stomach had reminded her how late it was getting, but she'd thought Tony had gone out for the evening. Virginia hadn't expected to find him sitting slumped on his own couch._

_There was enough light for her to make out details. His shirt was unbuttoned. The glass in his hand was mostly ice. His eyes were wide but unfocused._

" _Tony? Are you all right?"_

" _Forty-four steps," he announced, in a voice whose mood she couldn't name but that tightened her throat. "I had it all memorized."_

_Every so often, Virginia went on instinct. She walked over to the couch and sat down, not too close but not far away either. "What did you memorize?"_

_And he told her. Not a lot; just a few rambling scraps that she tried to pull together into a whole, caves and tunnels and using his ears and his memory because they never let him see where he was going._

_And between one word and the next he fell asleep, snoring softly. Virginia pried the glass from his fingers and eased him down to the cushions, and covered him with the soft blanket that lived on the back of the couch. And she went home._

_Remembering._

It was the same thing now. _Turn right out of the door. A hallway probably. Fourteen steps--ow--fifteen--turn right again. Another room--_ It sounded different, at least.

The hand on her arm led her a few feet further, then abruptly let go. "Don't move until we close the door," Number One warned, and hands fumbled at the binding on her wrists. Then that too was gone.

Virginia stood obediently still until the door clicked shut behind her and the lock scraped. Then she raised shaking hands and tore the blindfold off.

The light made her eyes water, but she rubbed them clear and looked hastily around. There was no one else in the small room. The blindfold in her hands was one of those light sleep masks that came in airplane goody bags; it even had a pair of stylized eyes printed on one side.

Virginia took a deep breath and tried to calm her shaking, then took another, longer look. The room was clearly set up as a cell-slash-bedroom; there was a small folding cot with a pile of blankets, a flimsy chair and a small table, and nothing else. There were no windows, and the only other exit had the door removed and a cheap shower curtain hung in its place. When she pulled it aside Virginia found a small but functional bathroom beyond, sink and toilet--not new but reasonably clean. There were even a couple of towels and some soap.

She looked around for cameras. There was one, quite obvious, mounted in the corner to the left of the hallway door; it would cover most of the room, and while she could pull the door curtain for privacy, whoever was on the other end of the feed would know where she was. The bathroom, she was relieved to see, had no such device.

_Well, it could be concealed. But why bother, when the other one's out in the open?_

Besides, it didn't make much difference anyway. There was nothing she could do about the surveillance--at least, nothing that her captors couldn't undo.

Virginia made use of the toilet and washed her hands, staring at herself in the spotty mirror. There was no color in her face except for the red rectangle where the tape had been, and her hair was frizzing out from her half-destroyed bun. She looked terrified and sick. _That fits. I_ _ **feel**_ _terrified and sick._

But more water, cupped up from the faucet in her hands, made her feel a little better, and a gentle pass with the soap took off some of the remaining adhesive, though it made her skin burn. She dismantled her hairdo, wishing for a comb, and rubbed her scalp to take the ache out.

Her watch was gone, so she had no idea how long she'd been unconscious. _Hours, probably, to get me wherever I am._ The walls were cinderblock, painted over, and the floor concrete, which felt more industrial than residential. Virginia realized that she couldn't hear anything--no traffic or sirens, no voices.

_Maybe it's nighttime. Maybe I'm in an inner room. Maybe--_

But it was all speculation. Without more data, she was only guessing.

Her throat swelled. Moving on instinct, Virginia went to the cot, shook out one of the blankets, and lay down, wrapping herself up and covering her head. Cocooning herself.

She didn't cry. But only because she locked every muscle tight until sleep stole in.


	2. Chapter 2

Pepper’s phone lay discarded in the trash and weeds next to the highway.  Tony bent to pick it up, ignoring the effect Iron Man was having on the traffic passing by, and scrolled delicately through the menu; fine dexterity was difficult in the suit, and if he wasn’t careful he could break the phone just by squeezing. 

 

Missed calls flowed by on the screen, his own among them.  It looked as though Pepper hadn’t answered any since seven-thirty that morning, which fit the timeline Happy had given him.  “So how did it get here?” Tony muttered to himself.  “Did they toss it?  Did _she?_ ” 

 

That was a heartening thought, that Pepper was trying to leave some kind of breadcrumb trail, but Jarvis broke in.  “Most likely it was her abductors who discarded the phone, sir.  They were probably aware of its GPS chip.” 

 

Tony growled.  “Will it help any?” 

 

“It might.  There may be fingerprints on its surface that could help identify the perpetrators.”  Jarvis sounded admonitory.  “However, for that you will have to involve the police.” 

 

“What, you can’t hack the print database?”  Tony pressed a small indentation on his right thighpiece and set the phone into the opening that appeared, then pressed again to close the pocket. 

 

“Given time, yes.  But it would be more efficient to do so through official channels.” 

 

“Let’s catch up to the limo first.”  Tony straightened and activated his repulsors, heading straight up.  “Give me a bead on it and then get me Rhodey.” 

 

Jarvis guided the suit into a long climb, and Rhodes’ voice spoke in Tony’s ears.  “Any luck?” 

 

“Found her phone,” Tony replied tersely.  “They tossed it by the side of the road.  I’m going after the limo now.” 

 

“Yeah, all right, I’m on your tail.”  Jarvis had taken over the GPS system in Rhodes’ truck as well, and was guiding the colonel along Tony’s trail.  “Just be careful, okay?  They have to know you’re coming, and you can’t just blast in there if they have Pepper.” 

 

“I know that.”  Tony couldn’t _forget_ it.  All the power and destruction he carried would be absolutely useless if they pressed a knife to Pepper’s throat.  “They might _not_ know, though.  In which case I intend to make the most of the element of surprise.” 

 

“Give ‘em hell then.”  Rhodes cut the connection, and Tony turned his attention back to the landscape and the task ahead.  He was on his own on this one; Rhodey was at least ten miles behind him at this point, and the distance was growing rapidly.  And Tony didn’t know if Pepper was even still in the limo. 

 

 _Either way, I’m going to find out._  

 

Another ten minutes of flight brought him within sighting distance of his goal.  The limo had stopped moving about half an hour before, Jarvis had informed him, and now the suit’s HUD flashed a beacon on one car among many. 

 

“A Wal-Mart?  They parked in a _Wal-Mart lot?_ ” Tony said in disbelief.  “Are they crazy?” 

 

“I take it that is a rhetorical question,” Jarvis answered pedantically.  “Please watch out for innocent bystanders, sir.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah.”  He dropped out of the sky without flourish, because the sinking feeling in his stomach was telling him that this was another false lead.  The limo was near the far end of the lot, so there was no one nearby, though Tony was sure someone had spotted him coming in.  “Scan, Jarvis.” 

 

The information flickered up before his eyes, overlaid on the vehicle and repeating what Jarvis was telling him.  “No explosives.  No heat signatures.” 

 

“Empty.”  Tony closed his gauntlet on one door handle, prepared to rip it open out of sheer temper, but it wasn’t locked.  There was no sign of struggle in the expansive back seat; nothing at all.  It was as neat as if Happy had vacuumed it out that morning. 

 

He checked the front as well, and had Jarvis signal the trunk open, but there was nothing, not even a note. 

 

Dead end. 

 

Tony closed the doors with deliberate gentleness and stepped back from the vehicle.  “Jarvis, make a note of the location so we can send someone out to pick it up,” he instructed, and again took off for the sky, maintaining a very tight grip on his temper and his panic.  “Rhodey--” 

 

“Nothing, huh?”  The colonel’s voice was miserable. 

 

“Not a thing.”  Tony didn’t even try for levity; nothing about this situation was at all amusing.  “Might as well turn around.” 

 

“Yeah.”  Rhodes hesitated.  “You going to call the cops now?” 

 

The fear was bitter on the back of his tongue.  “I don’t think I have a choice.” 

 

************************

 

The sound of the lock opening woke Virginia, and she sat up with a gasp, panic flooding through her.  A tall man was shouldering into the room, and all the horrors that she could experience kaleidoscoped through her mind, rape, torture, death-- 

 

The man wore a windbreaker and a black ski mask, turning him into a caricature.  He carried a tray with something on it.  Another man, also wearing a mask, stood outside the door, arms folded.  Virginia braced herself against the wall behind the cot, knowing herself practically defenseless but unwilling to cower. 

 

But neither seemed very interested in her.  The one with the tray walked over to set it on the table, then turned back towards the door without a word.  Halfway there he hesitated and looked back.  “You need anything?” he asked in the voice of Number Two. 

 

Still frightened, she shook her head numbly, and he left, pulling the door shut behind him.  The lock clicked home. 

 

Virginia held herself rigid for several moments, afraid they would come back, but they didn’t.  No sound came to her from beyond the door.  Gradually, she forced her taut muscles to relax. 

 

_It’s okay--they’re gone--_

 

Eventually the smell of the food on the tray caught her attention, and Virginia realized she was starving.  Unwinding herself from her blanket, she stood on slightly shaky legs and went to investigate. 

 

It was a cheap microwave dinner, the sort of thing she would have turned her nose up at normally.  _Beggars can’t be choosers.  Live with it._   Beside it stood a mug of coffee, unsweetened and black, but she drank it anyway, welcoming the harsh burst of caffeine.  And the food, she found, did taste reasonably good, with hunger for spice. 

 

As she finished her meal, Virginia felt better, and berated herself for her reaction to her captors' appearance.  It seemed a bit excessive now, and besides--  _You could have asked for a comb, or a toothbrush, or a change of clothes..._  

 

Setting her plastic fork down, she resolved to do better the next time, whenever that might be. 

 

Her meal finished, though, Virginia found herself with nothing to do.  She wasn’t used to being idle--the job of Tony Stark’s personal assistant had very little down time--and even when she wasn’t working she usually had a book or her sketching to keep her occupied.  But here she had nothing at all. 

 

“Look on the bright side,” she told herself, under her breath in case someone was listening.  “It could be a whole lot _worse._ ” 

 

But that didn’t make the time pass any faster.  She returned to her cot--the chair wasn’t very comfortable--and sat with her back against the wall, wrapped up against the chilly air.  And thought. 

 

It really did look like her captors meant what they said.  They were taking relatively good care of her so far, and while they hadn’t exactly been gentle with her they hadn’t gone out of their way to be brutal either.  _You’re a commodity to them.  They don’t want to damage your value._  

 

It wasn’t a particularly pleasant thought, but Virginia was determined to be practical.  She didn’t have a lot of options at the moment; escape seemed an unlikely prospect.  Sitting tight and waiting for rescue or release went against the grain, but she wasn’t sure what else she could _do._  

 

 _Think, at least.  You have a brain.  What do you know that can help you?_  

 

For starters, there had to be at least three people involved, Virginia reasoned, given that she’d heard a muffled conversation when she’d woken the first time and yet there had been someone in the room with her.  Three men, she decided tentatively; the third voice hadn’t sounded like a woman’s. 

 

Obviously this had been planned, given the setup and the way they’d managed to take Happy down.  She winced at the memory and hoped again that he was all right--and free.  _Be sensible.  Iron Man’s personal assistant is a reasonable prize, but why take his driver too?_

 

She wondered what they would demand of Tony, or of Iron Man.  Money, weapons, influence?  It seemed an insane thing to do, given Tony’s personality and impulsiveness, but then she supposed that such things wouldn’t necessarily be obvious to an outside observer.  Particularly if they were blinded by what they thought they could get out of him. 

 

Tilting her head back against the wall as if she were drowsy again, Virginia let her eyes drift half-closed and examined the room from under her lashes.  The food, and her body’s metabolization of the gas, had cleared her head somewhat, and it was easier to concentrate, to pick up details that she had missed before. 

 

The room was painted white, but not recently; it had a slightly grubby air though the floor was swept clean.  Light came from a set of fluorescent tubes overhead, set in the kind of bare-metal fixture seen in offices and warehouses the world over. 

 

The door was wood, and it looked very sturdy.  The hinges were on the inside, but they were heavy and large, and she didn’t think she could budge them without tools, camera or no camera.  _Possibly not even_ ** _with_** _tools,_ she thought ruefully.  They looked as though they had been painted over. 

 

There was a ventilation grille up near the ceiling over the table, which explained why the air in the room wasn’t stale, but it was about the size of a breadbox.  Even assuming she could pry the grille off the vent, she couldn’t get out that way. 

 

The tiny red light on the camera seemed to mock her.  It was an evil eye, even more so than the lens, a glowing reminder that she could do nothing without being observed. 

 

Fingers moving idly, Virginia explored the blanket wrapped around her, trying to make it seem as though she were just fidgeting.  It was cheap navy fleece, the kind that could be picked up at any big store.  There were two more sitting on the end of the cot; one was the same, and the other was rougher, a heavy scratchy wool in a muddy khaki that told her it was probably from an Army surplus store. 

 

 _Nothing I can use as a weapon, or a tool._  

 

She might dismantle the chair, or even the cot, but not without her captors knowing. 

 

Virginia unwrapped herself and pushed to the edge of the cot, wanting to stretch but suddenly unwilling to do so if hostile eyes were on her.  Rising, she went into the tiny bathroom and pulled the curtain across the opening.  It left an inch of gap on either side, but she didn’t think that the camera could peer that closely. 

 

There was nothing in the bathroom that could be taken apart.  She eyed the mirror dispassionately.  _I could break it if I had something heavy enough._   In fact, _that_ she might be able to conceal for a while, if she left the curtain closed and no one bothered to look in. 

 

Virginia considered the thought, then set it aside for the moment.  _The truth is, no one’s offered to hurt me yet._   She hadn’t even been threatened, really; Number One had implied consequences if she didn’t behave, but nothing overt. 

 

As much as she wanted a weapon, _something_ to give her a little power, she decided reluctantly that at the moment it was wiser to play her captors’ game.  _Remember, you have value to them.  Tony will want proof that you’re alive._

 

She made use of the toilet again, flushed, washed her hands, took her time.  But all too soon she had to return to the main room and her scant furnishings. 

 

Virginia resumed her seat on the cot, once again shrouding herself in the blanket.  It made her feel better as well as warmer, as if it actually concealed her from the camera’s view.  She crossed her legs, steadied her breathing, and tried to remain calm.  Waiting, after all, was a lesson already learned. 

 

She’d had three months’ practice. 

 

************************

 

The mansion was a sort of semi-chaos, with what seemed to Tony to be half the Malibu police force moving around and speaking in low and urgent voices.  Rhodey, smart man, had taken over directing them, and was currently explaining with only a small trace of exasperation that Jarvis could handle a tap on Tony’s phone lines better than the police technicians could. 

 

Rousing himself from his own dark thoughts, Tony spoke up from the couch to which he’d retreated.  “Jarvis, can you run a tap simultaneous with theirs?” 

 

“Of course,” came the answer, startling several of the cops, who looked around with wide eyes for the source of the disembodied voice. 

 

“Do it then,” Tony ordered shortly.  He met Rhodey’s eyes briefly across the room, and the colonel nodded and let the technician pass. 

 

Tony subsided back into his slump.  Rhodey and Jarvis had both been right; it was time to call in the police, and Tony had done so as soon as he’d gotten back to the mansion and out of the suit.  The response had been gratifyingly swift; there were times when it was useful to be one of the wealthy and powerful. 

 

The detectives in charge had questioned Tony for half an hour, demanding the same information over and over again, and he’d hung onto his temper with an effort.  The momentum had carried him through to calling his personal attorney, Josh Squire, and arranging to gain access to as much cash as possible at a moment’s notice, in case it became necessary.  Squire, horrified, had started the process, and Tony knew that angle, at least, was handled. 

 

But with no other tasks on his list, a strange lassitude now held him in place.  His throat was tight and aching, and there was a knot behind his chest piece that simply wouldn’t subside.  And in the back of Tony’s mind one word was repeating. 

 

_Pepper.  Pepper.  Pepper._

 

He really didn’t know how to survive without her.  All he could see was her face, a thousand times over--smiling, frowning, exasperated, frightened; angry or tired or laughing out loud.  Tony had known for months now that she was what he wanted; he hadn’t quite realized how much she was what he _needed._  

 

 _She has to be okay._  

 

He stared blindly at the people invading his house.  They were setting up some kind of staging area in the den he never used, jargon flying past about _time elapsed_ and _suspects_ and _who the hell is checking out her apartment_ , but it seemed all at one remove. 

 

He had to _do_ something. 

 

There wasn’t anything _to_ do. 

 

Pepper and her abductors had vanished as completely as a puff of smoke--as neatly as he’d been removed from view in Afghanistan.  All the control lay with them now, and all he could do was wait.  And if there was one thing Tony hated more than waiting, it was knowing that his actions were dependent on the will of someone else. 

 

A fresh commotion near the door resolved into Hogan, still looking unwell but at least able to stand up straight.  Tony sprang to his feet and strode over to his chauffeur. 

 

Hogan looked dazed at the ongoing fuss.  “Sir--” he said hesitantly.  “I just wanted to know what...” 

 

He trailed off, and Tony took his elbow, leading him forward through the throng.  “Malibu’s finest are doing their best,” he said, not entirely sardonically.  “We’re...kind of waiting for developments at the moment.” 

 

Hogan grimaced, and not, Tony thought, from the pain in his head.  “Nothing?” 

 

Tony hesitated, then shook his head.  “We found her phone where they threw it out.  Oh, and the limo.  But no...nothing.” 

 

Hogan seemed to shrink a little, as if the bad news took away some invisible support.  “Sir--Mr. Stark--” 

 

They reached the hallway, which was a little quieter.  “What is it?” 

 

“You have my resignation, sir,” Hogan said with a painful dignity. 

 

“The hell I do.”  Tony glared at him, raising a hand when Hogan opened his mouth.  “Shut the fuck _up_.  You did your best, but like you said, they were pros.”  Hogan’s mouth twitched, but Tony cut him off before he could marshal an argument.  “Besides, if Pepper finds out I let you do that, she’ll kill us both, and I like living.” 

 

That made the chauffeur snort faintly.  “She does...she does have firm opinions.” 

 

“Among other things.”  The double entendre was automatic.  Tony glanced past Hogan and down the hall.  “Now come on.  You can have one of the guest rooms.” 

 

“Sir, I can just go home--”  Hogan protested, then wobbled slightly.  Tony tightened his grip on the man’s arm. 

 

“Sure, if you want to cut yourself out of the loop here.  Besides, I think the cops are going to want to talk to you if they haven’t already.”  He tugged, guiding Hogan to the nearest unoccupied bedroom and opening the door.  “See, home away from home.  Now save me from the wrath of my assistant and take it easy for a bit.  When we know something...” 

 

Hogan nodded gingerly, detached himself from Tony’s grip, and limped into the room.  Tony closed the door gently behind him and went back to find out what was going on.  He felt awake again--still furious and frightened, but ready to light some fires if things weren’t being accomplished swiftly enough. 

 

“Tony!  There you are.”  Rhodey waved from across the room, beckoning.  “The FBI is here.” 

 

Tony made his way over to the new arrivals by the door.  “I don’t remember ordering any Feds.” 

 

“You didn’t,” said the tallest, an imposingly handsome man with close-cropped black hair and penetrating black eyes.  He held out a hand.  “Frank Donovan.” 

 

Tony tilted his head back a bit--the agent was very tall indeed--and traded handshakes.  Donovan’s grip was firm but not competitive, and his gaze was cool and assessing.  “This is my team.  Agents Alex Cross, Monica Davis, and Jake Shaw.”  The three people ranged behind Donovan all nodded; two women and a man, all with the closed look of the professional, though each wore street clothes.  “Our technician is already working on the tap.” 

 

Tony sighed.  “Look, we’ve already been invaded by a zillion cops.  I’m not going to fight extra help, but I’m not sure what you can do.” 

 

“Leave that to us.”  There was just a hint of compassion in the agent’s voice.  “I understand your chauffeur witnessed the abduction?” 

 

“Tried to _stop_ it,” Tony corrected sharply.  “Yeah.” 

 

“We need to talk to him too.”  Donovan regarded him steadily. 

 

“He’s in the first bedroom on the right.”  Tony jerked a thumb over his shoulder.  “But take it easy with him.  He’s still in pretty bad shape.” 

 

“We’ll be careful,” the shorter of the two women--Cross--said, her voice unexpectedly soft.  She and the other woman exchanged glances, and both set off in the direction Tony had indicated. 

 

“I need to talk to you also,” Donovan went on.  “Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little quieter?” 

 

“No.”  Tony wasn’t about to allow any of these people down into his workshop, not even federal agents.  _Especially_ not federal agents.  “Couch or nothing.” 

 

The third agent, Shaw, was talking quietly with Rhodey.  Donovan tilted his head in acceptance, and Tony led the way to the far corner of the living room, which offered at least an illusion of privacy. 

 

Donovan folded himself onto the couch with ease, and Tony sat a few cushions away, wondering tiredly if this was going to do any good at all. 

 

“Mr. Stark.”  Donovan had a hint of accent, and whatever it was, it didn’t match his name; it certainly wasn’t Irish.  “Do you have any idea who might have abducted Ms. Potts?” 

 

“If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting here,” Tony snapped.  “I’d be dangling the fuckers by their ankles at thirty thousand feet until they gave her _back._ ” 

 

Donovan’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t take issue with Tony’s statement.  “A man in your position always has enemies.” 

 

Tony shrugged.  “Competitors.  Terrorists.  Enemy nations.  Ex-girlfriends.  You name it, I’ve probably got it.”  His fists clenched.  “But this isn’t about revenge...is it?” 

 

The agent hesitated.  “It’s not as likely.  Has it occurred to you that she may have been taken for information she possesses?  As your assistant, she would know a great deal about Stark Industries, and your...other business.” 

 

Ice choked Tony’s veins.  He hadn’t even considered the thought, he’d just assumed that her abductors wanted a handle on _him._   _Ah, no...Pepper, no..._  

 

For an instant phantom water flooded his nose and mouth, pressing away his air, pushing him down towards a bottomless darkness--  _No!  Not her!_

 

And there were worse things.  His own captors had needed him in good shape, but if Pepper’s just wanted to wring her dry of secrets... 

 

Tony found himself on his feet.  “If they haven’t called by tonight, I’m calling a press conference to offer a reward for her safe return,” he said flatly, and walked away, his feet automatically seeking the haven of his workshop. 

 

Closing the door behind him cut off the babble upstairs and enclosed him in blessed hush.  Tony’s conscience told him he should go back up and at least make himself available to the investigators, but he didn’t think he could stand another minute of feeling like a fifth wheel. 

 

“Jarvis, how’s it going?” he asked, slumping down onto a stool. 

 

“If you mean the surveillance set-up, it has improved considerably since the FBI agents arrived,” his AI replied.  “The young man is quite the expert.” 

 

“Yeah, good for him.”  Tony stared blindly at his roadster.  “Who are these people, anyway?” 

 

“Searching.” 

 

The AI was silent for quite some time.  Tony let him hack, and played idly with a pair of calipers, trying not to think of what Pepper could be enduring, trying not to imagine her in pain, or screaming, or glaring defiantly at a shadowy captor. 

 

Or limp and still and bloody, beyond pain or anything else. 

 

When it came, Jarvis’ voice made him jump.  “Frank Donovan and his subordinates are not strictly FBI.  They are an elite undercover team that concentrates on high-profile or especially dangerous criminals.” 

 

Tony blinked.  “Then what the fuck are they doing here?” 

 

“Donovan is an expert at handling kidnapping cases although he no longer does so on a regular basis.  His retrieval rate is quite high at 84 percent.” 

 

“Well, that’s good, I guess.”  Tony frowned.  Was the government trying to put a clamp on him in case the kidnappers demanded tech or weapons instead of money?  _They can try, but nothing is going to stop me from getting her back._ “Does he come out of retirement often?”   

 

“No, I called in a favor.” 

 

Tony spun on the stool.  Rhodey was just stepping through the door into the workshop, and as Tony watched he closed the glass panel behind him.  “One of my ex-bosses used to work with Donovan when he ran the FBI’s Crisis Negotiation Unit.  He’s top-flight, Tony.  If anyone can get Pepper back unharmed, it’s him.” 

 

Tony managed half a grin at his old friend.  “Then I owe you one.” 

 

Rhodey’s answering smile was weak at best.  He walked over to lean against the back of the old leather couch.  “We’ll get her back safe, Tony.  She’s got to know we’re looking for her.” 

 

“Yeah.”  Tony had to look away.  Pepper was brave--he knew that first-hand--but no matter how well her abductors were treating her, it had to be terrifying. 

 

Rhodey sighed, and ran a hand over his scalp.  “Did you give the police her phone?” 

 

“No.”  Tony straightened off the stool, cursing himself for an idiot.  “Dammit, I forgot.  Jarvis, bring up the bottom half of the suit.” 

 

“Take it easy, man.  It’s been a hell of a day.”  Rhodey folded his arms and regarded him sympathetically. 

 

“Yeah, well, hers was worse.”  Tony snatched up a relatively clean rag from a workbench and stamped over to the assembly platform.  The suit ‘bots had lifted up the bottom components of the suit and were holding them in mid-air like an exploded graphic, and Tony opened the right thigh pocket with a quick press.  The phone still rested within, and he plucked it carefully out with his cloth-wrapped hand, then closed the pocket and turned for the stairs.  Behind him he could hear the ‘bots returning the suit pieces to their rest. 

 

“Do you want me to take it up?” Rhodey asked, but Tony shook his head. 

 

“I’ll do it.  I should be up there anyway.”  He was beginning to have a nasty suspicion that Donovan’s interests and Pepper’s might not quite be the same thing.  _If they try to block me..._

 

“Yeah.  You should.”  Rhodey thumped him once on the shoulder, and Tony keyed the door open, his ears already listening for the phone. 

 

_Call, dammit._

_Call._

_Call..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who were wondering, yes, Donovan and his team are not my own characters, but there are few out there who will recognize them. What can I say...I miss the undercover folks!
> 
> Thanks again to Cincoflex and Laura27md for sterling betaing skills!

She had no idea how much time was passing. Without a watch or a window, she seemed stuck in some kind of limbo, a null pocket of space-time where the only clock was her body. When she ran out of both speculation and adrenaline, Virginia sank into a near-meditative state, letting her thoughts drift idly.

It was better than letting her worry and fear wear grooves in her mind.

Tony had to know she was in trouble by now. Sooner or later even he would notice that she hadn't come downstairs to nag him into something he was trying to avoid. And Virginia was pretty sure that he would at least be concerned about her absence, given that she wasn't in the habit of disappearing without a word.

_Tony._

Her thoughts, unguided as they were, kept returning to him. It wasn't surprising, really; he had been the center of her work life for years now, and a dismayingly large part of the rest of her life too. She knew she had let her job take over too much of her time and attention, but she _did_ enjoy it. _It's good to be needed._

And Tony definitely needed looking after, that had been clear the first week she'd known him. Even now, when he'd learned a little responsibility, he still needed her to stand between him and the flood of demands that came his way, to winnow out the wheat from the chaff. To make him eat, to patch him up after his missions, to remind him that he needed to make nice with the Stark Industries board of directors.

Sometimes, in the private depths of her heart, she wished he needed her a little bit more.

Oh, he'd made an advance or two beyond his incessant flirting, sure. She could hardly count that absurd near-kiss at the Firemen's Family Fund benefit; that had been mostly her own fault, a brief insanity. But his egotistical, half-teasing query before his explosive press conference had actually tempted her, as silly as she knew it would be to give in.

Virginia knew herself, and she valued herself. She didn't date often, because her life as it was didn't leave much time for a serious relationship, and she really wasn't interested in a string of casual dates. If she was going to put time and effort into a relationship, she wanted it to be worthwhile. And she wanted a partner who valued her as well--for herself, not for what she did for him.

 _Long-term relationship_ wasn't even in Tony Stark's lexicon. And while he had changed a great deal since escaping from captivity, Virginia hadn't seen anything that led her to believe he was looking to expand his vocabulary.

Still, trapped in a cell by unknown captors, her future a frightening blank, she found herself wishing she'd stayed crazy just a few seconds longer and found out what kissing him was like.

_I'd probably have regretted it. But it would have been nice to know._

This time when the door opened, Virginia stiffened, but kept herself under control. By her best estimate, at least five hours had passed since her meal had been brought, though she wasn't at all sure of her own accuracy. The tall Number Two, still masked, came in alone, carrying another tray.

Virginia watched him warily as he closed the door and walked the couple of yards necessary to switch out the new microwave meal for the remains of the old one, but he didn't even look at her beyond the first initial glance upon entering.

He was Caucasian, to judge by the skin of his hands, and had wide shoulders but a rather bony build. The windbreaker was gone; he wore jeans and a checkered flannel shirt, which made the mask look even more incongruous, and heavy workboots. Something about the way he moved--and Virginia was good at reading body language--told her he was young. _Younger than me, anyway._

As he turned back towards the door, she swallowed and spoke. "I need a toothbrush," she said, trying to keep her voice level. "And my purse. Please."

Number Two glanced back at her, clearly startled, then ducked his head. He hurried back out the door, and Virginia was left staring at the barrier and listening to the lock click home, feeling baffled.

_At least I tried._

She put aside the blanket and rose to go to the table. She wasn't particularly hungry, but-- _It won't taste any better cold._

She was halfway through the uninspired meal of bony fried chicken and fake mashed potatoes when the sound of the door opening again made her start. No one came through; a hand tossed her purse onto the floor, followed by two small, narrow boxes, and then pulled the door closed.

She was startled by how much the sight of her own belongings mattered. Virginia sprang up and snatched up the bag as if someone might return and take it away, and then bent again to gather up the boxes. They contained a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste, both new, and she smiled at her prizes.

Ignoring the food for the moment, she dumped the contents of her purse out on the cot for inventory. Her phone was gone, which she expected, but her hairbrush and hair elastics were a welcome sight. Her wallet seemed to be intact, which surprised her a little, but her small pocketknife was missing.

Everything else was there. Lipgloss and blusher, breath mints, aspirin, receipts, a tube of lotion, and half a granola bar; a packet of tissues, two tampons, a felt-tip pen, a small sewing kit, and her keys.

Virginia turned the keyring over in her hand, running her thumb briefly over the tiny stylized Iron Man mask dangling from its chain. Tony hadn't exactly _given_ it to her; she'd just found it on her keys one day on leaving the mansion, a red and gold oval no bigger than her thumbnail.

Like the card she left him every Christmas Eve and his habit of bringing her cups of tea the first day of her period, it was something they never discussed; she'd just left it in place, amused and secretly touched.

She put everything neatly away but the brush and an elastic, and took them and the boxes into the bathroom. It was a few minutes' work to brush out the tangles from her hair and pull it back, and she returned to her cooling meal in a better frame of mind.

 _So they will listen to me. That's good to know._ She finished her meal thoughtfully, wondering how much she could ask for, how far she could push. _For one thing, I'm going to need a change of clothes pretty soon._

She could sponge-bathe using the sink, Virginia knew, but the thought of having to put dirty clothes back on afterwards definitely didn't appeal.

It wasn't until she was brushing her teeth that she realized that her captors had inadvertently left her a weapon of sorts. _My keys._ They weren't much, but held poking through her clenched fist they could wound, assuming she could land a punch. She had taken a self-defense course in college, and while she was currently severely out-muscled--

"You never know," she mumbled foamily, and rinsed out her mouth using the plastic coffee mug. Which she left on the edge of the sink, her new toothbrush sticking jauntily out to dry.

The airline mask still lay where she'd left it on the back of the toilet. Virginia ignored it and went out to pick up her purse and bring it back into the bathroom with her.

Eyeing the tampons, she was grateful that her period had just finished, because despite her success she _really_ didn't want to have to request supplies. She left them in place and picked out her keys again, slipping them into the pocket of her slacks where she could get to them right away if she had to.

And then it was back to the cot, to sit and wait.

And wait.

And wait...

The lights never went out, but at some point she curled up on her side and succumbed to sleep once more.

*******

The setting sun was nearly below the horizon, striping the sky with a riot of color, but Tony didn't see the beauty. The managed chaos in his home had subsided somewhat, leaving a half-dozen cops, the kind-of-FBI team, and Rhodey.

There were mostly-empty cartons of Thai food in the kitchen, growing cold on the big table, and open bottles of designer water everywhere. The office held a number of wiretap devices and computers that Tony normally would want to examine, but at the moment he simply couldn't summon any interest.

Pepper's kidnappers hadn't called.

He stared out the window, playing idly with the icons on the display, moving files around without really doing anything and ignoring Rhodey's low-voiced conversation with Agent Donovan behind him. The waiting was intolerable, but there was nothing else he could do.

"Jarvis," he breathed, too low to be overheard by anyone but the AI. "Run another diagnostic on the phone lines."

Infinitely patient, Jarvis chimed at him, then spoke a moment later, equally softly. "There is still no damage, sir." _Just like the last four times_ , the computer refrained from saying, but Tony couldn't help checking again and again.

Abruptly he turned and strode over to his old friend and the agent. "Tomorrow morning. Press conference," he broke in, knowing he was being rude and not caring about that either.

"Mr. Stark." Donovan's gaze was sober. "If Ms. Potts' kidnappers took her to gain information, they will not give her up for a reward."

Tony clenched his fists. The idea of Pepper being tortured for information made him sick and furious, and he wanted to hit something. Or someone. "Somebody has to have seen _something._ A press conference is the fastest way to find out."

"Not yet," the agent repeated firmly. "Give them a chance to make their move. We are not in control here, and we don't want to spook them."

Rhodey put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "He's the expert, Tony. He knows what he's doing."

They were right, though it took every scrap of his reason to admit it. Tony met Donovan's eyes. "If I find out that we waited too long, I will hold you responsible." It was a promise, not a threat, quiet and firm.

Donovan didn't flinch. "So will I, Mr. Stark."

Their stare was broken by the sound of footsteps, and Tony turned to see his chauffeur coming slowly into the room, still pale and very sleepy, but looking much better despite the bruise spreading out from his temple. Happy was well on his way to a black eye, but the greenish tinge was gone from his skin.

"Anything?" he asked, anxious, and then his face fell as Tony shook his head.

"Not yet. How're you feeling?"

Hogan rubbed the back of his head gingerly. "I'm better..."

He blinked as if dizzy, and Tony raised a brow. "You sure about that?"

Hogan shrugged. "Really, sir, I'm fine. I must have slept for hours."

Off to one side, Rhodey caught Tony's eye and tilted his head towards the kitchen. _Good idea,_ Tony thought, and shooed Happy in that direction. "You'd better eat, if there's anything left."

Hogan let himself be herded. Tony made him sit down at the table and found him a clean plate and a fork, and rummaged through the fridge until he came up with an unopened bottle of water. Fussing over his chauffeur felt a bit odd, and judging from the discomfort on Happy's face it was no easier for him either, but it gave Tony something to concentrate on rather than the endless loop of rage and fear.

Hogan's color improved as he made his way through cold noodles and beef with broccoli. Tony poked idly at some cashew chicken, more to keep Happy company than because he was hungry; his appetite was nonexistent. Pepper would at least have _tried_ to make him eat by now, but--

_Pepper--_

Tony set the carton down with careful precision, and then deliberately snapped the bamboo chopstick he held into two pieces. The other one met the same fate, and Tony lined the four fragments up on the table, parallel to one another, concentrating on keeping them exactly the same space apart.

Concentrating _hard._

"She'll...she'll be okay."

Hogan's voice was quiet, and Tony glanced up. Happy never had much to say; he managed to maintain a species of deference towards Tony despite the latter's casual disregard of protocol. Now, he met Tony's gaze with eyes that were worried, but that also held hope.

"She's strong, sir. Tough. She's a survivor."

"Yeah." Tony nudged one splinter with the tip of his finger. "She is that."

Happy laid his fork across his plate slowly, as though it were important to get it just so. "She said the same thing about you, when you were gone."

That made Tony blink, because he had barely mentioned that time to Pepper, and never spoken of it with Happy at all. Hogan pushed his plate a little ways away, and looked down at his hands. "She never gave up on you. Said that she wouldn't believe you were dead until she saw you in a casket." His lips twitched slightly. "And maybe not even then."

The words made a wave of totally inappropriate amusement curl up in Tony's chest, because he could just hear the exasperation in Pepper's voice, and he had to admit that she _did_ know him, because he wouldn't have been above playing a coffin prank if the opportunity presented itself.

"What else did she say about me?" he asked, curious. He knew she'd wept at his return, but he hadn't asked her what those three months had been like.

There'd hardly been _time._ And he was a little afraid to open the subject, though he knew it would have to be broached eventually if they were ever to break out of their holding pattern.

"Besides the bad words?" Hogan actually smirked, and Tony had to grin a little, because Pepper in a true temper was both stunning and eloquent. "Mostly she called you an idiot for getting taken in the first place. But I don't think she put down her phone at all, even to sleep." Hogan shifted, fingering the bruise at his temple uneasily. "She didn't sleep much."

Tony sobered, though the news pleased him more than would the revelation that she'd slept soundly and well every night he was gone.

"She kept me on," Happy went on thoughtfully. "I mean, I was driving her some of the time, but Mr. Stane kept hinting that she should shut up the house and let me and the housekeeper go, or at least put us on indefinite leave. But she wouldn't do it."

Tony swallowed. Again, he hadn't really had time to think about how his home had been kept while he was gone from it; he was just relieved to find it pretty much as he'd left it, and too exhausted at the time to question. But Pepper, as his executor, had apparently taken her duties very seriously.

 _There is no one I trust more._ And out of all of those he held dearest, she was the only one who had proven worthy of that trust. Even Rhodey had turned away for a while. Pepper never had.

He didn't count her decision to quit when he'd asked her to play spy for him. That argument had only proven how much she cared for him.

Cared _about_ him, even. Maybe. He still wasn't sure--

Tony looked back up at Hogan, who was peeling the label from his empty water bottle. Simple, steadfast loyalty wasn't something to be taken lightly, either, even if Happy had no part in Tony's penance or his deepest secrets. _I don't deserve it, any more than I deserve Pepper._

But he had it, and Tony had already learned not to take such gifts for granted.

"Thank you," he said abruptly, and Happy looked up. "For trying to save her."

The familiar guilty look came over Happy's face. "I didn't--"

"You _tried,_ " Tony interrupted, staring the other man down. "Yeah, they had superior force. But I know no one would have fought harder to protect her." _Except me._

Or, judging from the misery in Happy's eyes, maybe not.

Tony closed his own, suddenly overwhelmingly tired. He wanted Pepper safe and unharmed, but he also wanted her _there,_ with _him,_ so badly that he ached with the longing.

_As soon as she's safe, we're going to deal with this._

_She'd better_ _**be** _ _safe. Or there'll be hell to pay._

And the road to hell would go through Iron Man.

*******

Virginia opened her eyes to the same unchanging view, bare cinderblock and cement. She didn't move, trying to separate dream from reality; her sleep had been light and her dreams vivid.

Then she heard voices again, and realized that the sound had pulled her from slumber.

She let her eyes close again and rolled onto her back to free up both ears, but the sounds remained maddeningly incomprehensible, a jumble of muffled syllables. Number One, she thought, and the third, as-yet-unseen voice.

She risked a glance at the camera. The red light still glowed, and so she stirred and stretched a little, as if only just now waking up, and then sat up.

Her clothes were wrinkled and stale-smelling, but she ignored that and stood, yawning deliberately before sauntering towards the table. Virginia sank into the chair and rested her elbows on the table, avoiding the last meal tray, then propped her chin in her hands as if both sleepy and bored.

Here, under the ventilation grille, the voices were a bit clearer. She couldn't make out every word, but scraps came through as the tones rose and fell.

"--ording. They'll demand proof."

"You think...operate?"

"Yeah."

It was hard for her to discern the speakers' emotions, but something about that one short word made her spine crinkle unpleasantly. She didn't move; just closed her eyes, pretending to succumb to drowsiness.

The next sentence was undecipherable, but sounded like an order or an instruction. Number One made a noise of agreement, and then she heard a door close, and there was silence.

She kept her frustration to herself and didn't move. The conversation hadn't been enlightening, but knowing that she could hear something outside her prison was a prize indeed. It was something she would have to guard carefully.

No further voices came, so after a while she stood and went to use the bathroom and get her hair out of her eyes, pulling it up into a ponytail. Refreshed and rehydrated, Virginia realized that she was faced with another stretch of empty time.

 _I want a shower. So much._ She thought about that sponge-bath, but wasn't quite ready to attempt it; she could, in theory, wash her clothes as well, but she had nothing else to put on in the meantime and she wasn't about to make herself vulnerable by wrapping up in a blanket and nothing more.

And _wearing_ her clothes while they dried absolutely did not appeal.

She felt logy and restless both. _Not enough exercise,_ she deduced, and out of sheer frustration started pacing around the room. It wasn't really big enough for the task, and she had to reverse direction at the end of each round to keep from getting dizzy, but it was something to do and it got her blood moving. Virginia kept her pace slow, she didn't want to get sweaty, but she kept walking until her muscles were warmer and her head clearer.

She had just finished round seventy-six, with an eye towards quitting after one hundred, when the door opened. Virginia started, and flung herself around to face it.

Number Two's rangy form stepped inside, carrying the now-familiar tray. What little of his expression she could detect didn't seem surprised to find her elsewhere in the room, but he didn't move away from the door until she backed up to the cot. Then he crossed to the table to switch out her meal.

Virginia didn't sit, but she watched him carefully until he was finished and back out the door. He didn't look armed to her--there was no bulge of a holster on him, and if he carried a knife it was in a pocket or a hidden sheath. And she hadn't seen anyone in the corridor this time.

 _That doesn't mean there isn't someone there, though._ And even if she were able to dart out the door while Number Two's back was turned, all he had to do was raise his voice to attract attention. Making a break for it without knowing where to go was either stupid or desperate... _and I'm not desperate._

_Yet._

The meal gave her no clue as to the time of day; it was another dinner-style meal, accompanied by the same cheap coffee. She ate macaroni and glutinous cheese sauce and yearned for a salad, or even just a piece of fresh fruit. _At least they're feeding you..._

She was expecting another set of long empty hours, so when the door opened just as she stood up Virginia froze, uncertain and--to her dismay--frightened again. This time Number Two carried what looked like a white ribbon in one hand, and another masked man stood in the doorway, waiting.

"You need to come with us," Two said, sounding almost apologetic through the small hole of the mask.

"Blindfold," the other man snapped, in the voice of Number One.

Two looked at her expectantly, and Virginia licked her lips. "It's in the bathroom," she said, her voice quieter than she wanted it to be.

"Get it," One ordered.

She did, because there was obviously no point in arguing. Plucking it off the back of the toilet, Virginia emerged from the bathroom and stopped, not sure what to do next.

"Put it on," Two told her, his tone not as hard as his compatriot's.

She almost balked. Making herself vulnerable in front of her captors made the fear surge towards terror. But the alternative seemed to be having them do it for her, and she didn't want either of them touching her if she could help it at all. Slowly she lifted the scrap of cloth and elastic, and slipped it over her head.

It wasn't total blindness; a little light seeped through around the edges. But the mask was big enough that she couldn't actually see anything, even with her peripheral vision. She could hear, though--hear Two coming closer.

Everything in her wanted to bolt away, or strike at him. Virginia held herself very still.

"Hands behind your back," he said, more briskly this time. Reluctantly she complied, clasping one hand around the other wrist.

Two moved behind her, and unclasped it, pressing her wrists together back to back. His fingers were cold and impersonal. Something thin was snugged around her wrists, and as the quick zipping sound reached her ears Virginia realized that the ribbon Two had brought with him was the sort of binding used by riot police. Quick to put on, easy to cut off.

Then his hand was on her elbow again, urging her forward.

She was more awake this time, more prepared. Virginia counted steps and turns, and as far as she could tell she was taken back past the room she'd woken in, past another that held a TV--she could hear a sports announcer--and into a third on the other side of the corridor. There Two guided her to a chair and shoved her down into it, not roughly. "Stay," he said, as if to a dog.

One was there also, she'd heard his footsteps accompanying them. She held still, twisting her wrists against their binding. Not too tight, and she sent a small blessing Two's way for that, but again too snug to remove.

A third set of footsteps came into the room, and One spoke. "Can she see anything?"

Cloth rustled near Virginia's head, and then Two replied. "Nope."

"Good." More rustling, footsteps, sounds she couldn't identify.

She heard someone moving around to stand in front of her. The smell of cheap cologne reached her nose. "You feeling okay today, ma'am?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

The words were pleasant, but Virginia heard a tinge of scorn in the words, as if the speaker-- _Number Three, I guess_ \--would rather she answered in the negative. But she nodded hesitantly.

"Glad to hear it," the voice drawled, though she hadn't actually spoken. "Sorry about the rough accommodations, but times are hard. I'm sure you understand."

The mockery was more open now, but Virginia didn't let herself shiver. She bit her lip and decided she had to ask. "Is...is the chauffeur okay?" It felt weird not using Happy's name, but she wasn't even sure her captors knew it.

Three made a dismissive noise. "Fine, if he woke up before he was roadkill." Hard fingers grabbed her chin, and she flinched.

"We're going to make a quick recording here to let your friends know you're doing well. When I tell you, you say you're okay but you want to go home, got it?"

Anger beat back a little of the fear, and Virginia tossed her head, making him lose his grip. "What if I don't?"

Three laughed unpleasantly. "Then we'll change your mind. You won't like it. Crying works too."

A picture flashed into her head, Tony listening to a tape, eyes wide and face still with that dangerous look. Virginia had no doubt that Three could do exactly what he threatened, and in her mind Tony heard her crying. And the pain that twisted his face stopped her breath in her chest.

"I'll--I'll do what you want." It was less humiliating, and wiser, and it was no good telling herself that her imagination was getting the better of her, because some small part of her knew it wasn't imagination.

It was knowing him.

"Smart." The oppressive sense of Three retreated slightly, and there were more small sounds. She recognized the whir of a computer drive starting up, and guessed that the recording was going to be digital.

"Just so you know we're taking good care of her," Three said abruptly. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and sucked in a breath, trying to control her voice.

"I'm...I'm all right. They haven't hurt me." She hesitated, and the tap came again, harder this time. "I want to come home."

She swallowed back the _please_ that rose to her lips. She didn't want to give her captors the satisfaction of hearing how frightened she was.

"You heard the lady," Three said with dark satisfaction. "Be smart, and you'll get her back safe." He paused. "There. We'll splice the rest of the audio in."

"That's it?" Two asked.

"Almost." A rustle of cloth, a snapping sound. "We need a bit more proof."

Virginia jumped as someone grabbed her ponytail and pulled. "Hold still," Three snapped, and she froze, mind racing as she tried to anticipate what they were going to do--

Several small yanks, and then the pull gave, making her head rock slightly. It was suddenly lighter, and she knew what had happened. "That'll do," Three said just to her right. "Take her back."

Virginia was tugged unceremoniously to her feet and guided back towards the door. She tried to concentrate as she was guided, and though the TV was gone she figured out that they were going back to her cell. Once again the bonds were removed, and she fisted her hands to keep from ripping the blindfold off, but as her guide stepped away she spoke.

"Is there--could I have some clean clothes?"

A second of silence, and then-- "Um. I'll, uh, ask."

The door shut behind Two, and Virginia yanked off the mask and threw it across the room. Her hands flew to her head, running down over her scalp, and sure enough her ponytail was _gone._

She growled. "My _hair_ \--"

Furious and sick, she stamped into the bathroom. The spotty mirror confirmed what her hands had found--her hair hung ragged and loose, not even brushing her shoulders any longer.

She stared at her reflection. It wasn't that bad a job, a trim would make it manageable, but the fact that they had _stolen_ it from her made her feel violated.

It was pretty clear what they wanted it for, too. They weren't just going to send Tony a recording of their demands, they were going to send him her hair as well, proof positive that they had her. Virginia's fingers curled around the rim of the sink, and then she was cursing, choking, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and turned away, sat down on the toilet and buried her face in her hands, weeping with rage and terror and loneliness.

_I want to go home._

And whether home was her own quiet apartment or the huge cliff house that held the man who was, in a way, responsible for her predicament, she couldn't quite say.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cincoflex made this possible, Laura27md made it better. And this week includes some amazing illustrations by Rabidpotato, so I strongly suggest you nip over to my site (lightinthemirror.com) to check them out!

Happy was asleep, draped uncomfortably in the curve of the couch. Rhodey wasn't, although the circles under his eyes bespoke his exhaustion; he sat on the piano bench, nursing a cup of coffee.

Tony stood watching the ocean as it gleamed in the early morning light. Every so often he let his eyes unfocus slightly to see his own reflection in the glass; haggard, unshaven, grim. He was running mostly on espresso laced with whiskey, and the only reason he wasn't drinking the whiskey straight was because he _had_ to be clear-minded.

They still hadn't called.

Donovan was worried. There was no way the agent was admitting it, of course, but Tony could tell. He kept saying that the kidnappers would get in touch with them eventually, perhaps by another method, but Tony remembered their earlier conversation, about the other reasons why Pepper might have been taken.

And if that were the case, they might never hear anything at all.

Tony heard the front door open, and turned his head enough to see the short dark agent, Shaw, come in. Donovan appeared as if summoned.

"You're right, it's a circus out there," Shaw reported, his voice low but audible. "It took me three minutes just to get through the gate."

Donovan grimaced, and rubbed his jaw. "We'll have to get some uniforms in to clear them out."

Tony walked over. "The press?"

Both men looked at him, Shaw with a closed expression, Donovan with an assessing one. "Yeah," Shaw said.

Donovan sighed. "I apologize, Mr. Stark. Leaks are inevitable, but--"

Tony lifted a hand. "I'll get some Stark Industries security in to handle it. And in precisely thirty minutes I'm holding that press conference. You can coordinate it or you can stand back, but don't get in my way."

He'd been this angry before, but not often. Tony kept his voice perfectly level, almost amiable, but the way Shaw stiffened told him that the menace was coming through.

"I'll handle it," Rhodey said firmly, coming up to stand beside Tony. His expression was cool as he regarded the agents. "It's time we did something."

Donovan looked like he wanted to argue, but he nodded. "Very well."

Thirty minutes later Tony stepped through the gates of his property to face the crowd of reporters and camera-people milling beyond. Shaw and Cross and Rhodey flanked him, acting as bodyguards although he didn't think anyone here was out to get him.

He'd waited half an hour so that Rhodey could call the more legitimate news agencies and give them a heads-up, and also so he could take a quick shower and change clothes; he had an image to maintain and Pepper would never let him hear the end of it if he showed up for a press briefing unwashed and uncombed.

_Please, please let her come back and tease me. Please._

The reporters were already shouting questions at him. Tony ignored them as completely as he ignored the flashes going off in his face, and simply waited. They quieted with eager speed.

"As you may already know," Tony began, pitching his voice to carry in the cool morning air, "my personal assistant Ms. Potts was abducted yesterday by persons unknown. At this time we have no further news."

He had to stop and take a breath to open his throat again, and the questions flew thick and fast, a babble he had no interest in deciphering. He shook his head slightly, and the noise died down again.

"I want to say right now that my only desire is for her safe return. I am...I am prepared to concede to their demands if they will release her unharmed." He swallowed hard. "If anyone knows anything about this incident, I am asking them to come forward now. I am offering a substantial reward for any information that leads to her safe recovery."

There was more he wanted to say. Tony wanted to lean forward, to look into the cameras and promise, with perfect truth, that if Pepper _wasn't_ unharmed, he would hunt down her kidnappers and make very, very certain that they never hurt anyone else again. His gut was knotting with the need to make that promise.

But threatening people who held a knife--metaphorical or literal--to Pepper's throat was not the way to get her back safely. So he kept the words inside.

There would be time enough to prove them later.

Tony turned and walked back through his gates, scarcely hearing the shouting begin. A few of the less professional reporters tried to squeeze through after him, but he heard Shaw and Cross ushering them back out, and didn't stop. The security team he'd called for would be there shortly to keep the driveway clear, and sooner or later most of the people would give up and go away.

Rhodey jogged up to walk with him. "You really need to eat something," he said. "When's the last time you had a meal?"

"You sound like Pepper," Tony replied, tasting irony bitter on his tongue.

"Yeah, well, somebody has to ride your ass until she gets back to do it herself," Rhodey said, not quite managing a smile. "You won't do her any good if you pass out from hunger, you know."

Tony didn't bother reminding his friend that he could, and occasionally did, go for more than a day without eating when he was on a creative streak. He wasn't hungry, but Rhodey did have a point, and it would give him something to do while he waited. "Fine, whatever."

Donovan was in the abduction team's makeshift headquarters when they got back to the house, talking to the personnel manning the equipment there. "Have you got enough people to handle the tips that'll be coming in?" Tony asked bluntly.

"Yes." Donovan looked down at him assessingly. "You do realize that few, if any, will be of value?"

"Yeah." Tony loosened his tie and turned away. "I can't afford to miss the chance, though."

He walked out towards the kitchen, ignoring the wide eyes of the people staffing the room. Jarvis had told him that the tech on Donovan's team was nearly incoherent with awe at being so close to Tony, but at the moment he just didn't have the attention to spare for a fan. _Get Pepper back, and I promise I'll talk to you,_ he thought distractedly.

Rhodey was putting together sandwiches when Tony reached the kitchen, grumbling about the lack of his favorite mustard. Tony sat down at the table, now clear of last night's clutter of leftovers, and stared into space.

_Pepper...you'd better be all right..._

She bloomed in his mind's eye, in a hundred different days and moods; smiling, chiding, biting her lip when he teased her. Even after his return, he'd carefully kept from touching her even when he got into her personal space, because as much as he liked to push her boundaries he did respect her. She wasn't one of the women he seduced for an evening; she was _important,_ permanent, essential.

And he hadn't been invited.

But now he ached with the desire to touch. To hold. To know she was safe and real. Boundaries or not, Tony thought, the first thing he was going to do when he saw Pepper was hug her, pull her close and hold her tightly, for a very, very long time.

He really didn't think he was going to be able to stop himself, in fact.

_I couldn't protect you, Pepper, but I won't repeat that mistake._

The scrape of china across wood broke his concentration. Tony blinked, and looked down to see Rhodey shoving a plate in front of him. It held two fat sandwiches and six raisin-oatmeal cookies. "Eat," the colonel told him.

Tony picked up one half-sandwich and bit into it. Maybe by the time he'd finished there would be news.

* * *

Virginia was back to pacing when she heard the lock click. Halting in the middle of the room, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited, anger outweighing apprehension.

But it was just Two again, holding a paper shopping bag. He paused on the threshold, and Virginia felt cooler air gust into the room, smelling fresh and piney. She blinked. _There's a door open somewhere?_

Two leaned in to toss his bag onto the floor, and beyond his shoulder she caught a glimpse of the corridor's far wall. It was the same off-white color as her cell, but a square of sunlight brightened part of what little she could see.

Then there was a bang, and the sunshine vanished. Two straightened and pulled the door closed.

She listened to him re-lock the door, her mind racing. Sunshine and fresh air-- _the exit must be just down the hall!_

 _That_ was a fact worth knowing. Down the hall to the right, a direction she hadn't yet been taken. And apparently not very far, either.

 _I wonder if it's kept locked. I wonder where we are--pine trees must mean up in the hills somewhere--_ If she was still even anywhere near Malibu, Virginia cautioned herself. She could have been taken hundreds of miles from where they were ambushed.

Still, the knowledge gave her hope. She smiled grimly to herself and went to investigate the bag.

It held two sets of medical scrubs in light blue, the kind that could be purchased at a supply store anywhere. They were baggy and the pants were probably too short, but she didn't care. They were _clean._

Virginia took them into the bathroom and pulled the curtain closed, glancing up at the red light on the camera with disfavor. Anticipating cleanliness, she shrugged out of her wrinkled jacket, reached for the top button on her blouse--and hesitated.

_What if they come back?_

None of the three men had treated her as anything other than an animate object so far, but she wasn't eager to have them catch her even partially naked, either.

 _Breakfast--or whatever it was--wasn't that long ago,_ she decided at last. _The odds are good that I have at least a couple of hours._

Slowly, straining her ears for any sound from the outer room, Virginia undid her blouse and pulled it off, then removed her bra. Wearing it for so long had left raw spots here and there, and she grimaced at the sight, but there wasn't much she could do about them.

She turned on the water as hot as she could stand, and used a fold of her blouse as a washcloth to lather up with the soap. It was awkward, standing over the sink and dabbing at all her corners, but it also felt _incredibly_ good, and she didn't bother worrying about the water she was splashing on the floor.

When she'd finished her top half, she stepped out of her slacks and underwear and peeled off her ruined stockings. She washed more quickly, uneasy about being completely nude, but no one disturbed her, and soon she was pulling the scrub bottoms on over her damp skin.

She hesitated again over the scrub top, eyeing the sink. _Why not? It looks big enough._

Virginia set the top aside again and closed the sink drain, filling the bowl with water. Her hair was going to be a disaster after washing with soap, but at least it would be clean. And she felt the need for a cleansing of some kind after losing half its length to Number Three.

The process was even more awkward, and took twice again as long as washing the rest of her. But in the end she felt clean from head to chilled toes, and toweled her head briskly before slipping on the top and wrapping her hair in the damp towel. Draining the water from the sink, she refilled it and dropped in her lingerie, scrubbing them quickly and draping them over the back of the toilet.

She hesitated again over her suit; it was meant to be dry-cleaned only. _But I'd rather wear it clean and ruined than dirty._

 _At least it's not wool_.

Washing the blouse and slacks was much harder, given their bulk and weight; Virginia didn't bother with the jacket, as it didn't lie against her skin. When they were rinsed, she opened the sink again and left them to drain a little, then took off her towel and wrapped her lingerie up to press more of the water out.

Her wrists and fingers ached by the time she was done, but she felt so much better. She ran the brush through her hair, wincing at the uncooperative tangles, then left the bathroom, retrieving the lotion bottle from her purse and sitting on the cot to apply the contents.

As she rubbed at her toes, her eye caught on the pen peeking out of her bag, and it gave her an idea.

The paper bag, opened at the seam and flattened out, was big enough for drawing on. Virginia stared into space, trying to think her way out of the little room, faces and situations flashing past her mind's eye. Picking up the pen, she started with the last thing she'd been sketching, a pond shadowed by a willow from the park near her apartment.

But the paper was too dark for detail, and she frowned at it, annoyed. _There's got to be something better..._

And then it came to her, and she smiled.

Virginia stood, and went to stand in front of the far wall. It felt a little naughty, drawing on the paint, but there was no one to care, and it was something to _do._

The paint was relatively smooth, neither it nor the pen really lent themselves to fine strokes. So she gave up on elegance and moved on to caricature. Virginia didn't do the little parodies often any longer--what time she had she preferred to use on more complex projects--but she'd always enjoyed distilling a personality or a moment down to a simple, evocative image.

Rhodey was easy, a little figure swearing at a small, oblivious Tony. Which of course led to another Tony, this one in the clutches of his suit 'bots, with one mechanical arm extending a feather towards his ribs.

That made her giggle. She added herself sitting with Jarvis' main server, a beer bottle in her hand and another next to the AI.

Happy stood stoic and sunglassed, with the limo nudging his leg like a cat wanting to be petted. Dummy and Butterfingers doused each other with fire extinguishers. She sketched in the entire board of directors as various animals, and didn't bother to be merciful. Rhodey again, perched on the back of a soaring fighter jet.

Three of the Legal team from Stark Industries, singing karaoke badly. Virginia herself once more, standing next to a car that had just a pair of legs sticking out from under it; she put a wrench in her hand and left it ambiguous as to whether she was helping the hidden figure or planning on doing him damage.

Her college roommate chasing her husband with a butterfly net. Tony on one knee, offering a bouquet of flowers to his Tesla Roadster. Butterfingers stalked by a small kitten.

Eventually her hand cramped, and Virginia capped the pen and returned to the cot, feeling much better.

She leaned back against the wall behind her cot and wondered how long the recording--and her hair--would take to reach Tony. _Not more than a day, I think. They won't want to wait too much longer._ Every day they held her, after all, was another chance for something to go wrong, another chance of discovery or error.

She wished that she could have sent some secret message along with that missive, some reassurance that she really _was_ all right. Because Tony had to be blaming himself for this.

_He feels responsible for the people killed by his weapons. What will this do to him?_

There were times when her boss drove her crazy--many of them, in fact. But Virginia was still very fond of him...fonder than she should be, she knew. And she hated to see him in pain.

 _I'm okay, Tony,_ she thought in his direction, knowing it was foolish but doing it anyway. _Just get me out of here._

* * *

The day inched past with agonizing slowness. The abduction team sifted through the tips that flooded in, reporting few of interest, and most of those petered out quickly. Tony finally retreated to his workshop around noon and started pulling his ruined Shelby to pieces--a project he hadn't had time to get to for months, and one that fortunately didn't require much concentration. He wasn't sure if the thing was worth salvaging or whether he should just recycle it for parts, but it occupied at least part of his mind and kept him from hanging over the abduction team's shoulders and making acid remarks.

Rhodey had finally agreed to take a nap, assigning Happy the position of unofficial interface between Tony and the team. The chauffeur clearly felt out of place hanging around the mansion instead of retreating to his own snug little cottage at the gate, but he was equally clearly unwilling to leave until there was news of Pepper.

But it was Jarvis who broke into Tony's rhythm of screwdriver and hammer. "Sir, Agent Donovan just received the fingerprint results from Pepper's phone."

Tony straightened from his crouch, setting down the hammer. "Yeah? What's the word?"

Jarvis activated the nearest computer screen. "The prints belong to one Gordon Nyblom, a convicted felon." A mug shot appeared on the screen, along with a list of offenses--Jarvis had apparently hacked straight into the communications line the team was using. Tony thoroughly approved. "He has priors for armed robbery, assault, passing on stolen goods, and the like, but nothing related to kidnapping."

Tony came closer for a better look. Nyblom was just a kid, really--barely in his mid-twenties, a weedy-looking guy with eyes that didn't quite look at the camera. "He's gotta be a minion or something. No way is he running this thing."

"I quite agree." Jarvis' tone was firm. "I believe Agent Donovan is having a cross-check run on his known associates."

"Is there a last known address?" Tony glanced longingly at the suit assembly platform, itching for a reason to put it on and go kick some ass.

"It is three years out of date," Jarvis replied apologetically. "Mr. Nyblom has since served six months for drug possession. The odds of him being at that address are slim to none."

"Check it anyway," Tony ordered. "If he has relatives there, they may know where he's gone."

"Checking now." Jarvis paused. "The address no longer exists. The apartment complex in question was torn down last year and replaced with a car dealership."

" _Fuck._ " Tony kicked angrily at the maintenance creeper nearby. "Dead end."

"For the moment."

Tony sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Keep tabs on Donovan and his crew. Anything relevant comes through, I want to know about it right away." He wouldn't put it past the agent to pull a fast one and leave Tony out of the loop on any on-the-ground investigation. Not that Tony could blame him, really; probably the last thing Donovan wanted to deal with was Iron Man tagging along on a rescue mission.

 _Tough. He's getting me anyway._ _Tagging_ wasn't quite the right word, either; with Jarvis' aid, Tony had every intention of being out in front as soon as they had a direction. _No way am I leaving Pepper's safety up to strangers._

He went back to the smashed car, prying off piece after piece and having Dummy catalog and arrange them. The vehicle wasn't quite as damaged as it had first appeared, but it was still going to take a lot of work to get it anywhere near its former condition.

Some people would just buy another, Tony mused as he banged and levered and scraped his knuckles. It would certainly be easier. But he preferred the opportunity to restore, to coax the car back to its former glory.

He'd done it with most of his vintage cars. Buying them whole had its pleasures, but that just made them things he owned. Restoring them made them _his._ When he knew them inside and out, he knew exactly how to treat them, how to get the most out of them and push them to their perfect peaks.

He hadn't had a lot of time lately to indulge the hobby, but then he wasn't in a hurry, either.

His hand slipped as he reached underneath the chassis, and Tony swore as he felt a sharp edge gash the back of his hand. He pulled it out and flexed it; blood smeared bright across his skin, but the sting was already fading.

Out of habit Tony lifted his hand to his lips to lick the blood away, something he'd done since he was a child. It made Pepper fuss at him, but it also lessened the pain slightly--and, he liked to think, cleaned the injury somewhat. When she pointed out that human mouths were filthy, Tony would always riposte that they were _his_ germs already, and did that mean she had a dirty mouth, Potts, because he'd really like to hear it...

Besides, at this point he was used to the taste of engine grease.

As he'd thought, it was hardly more than a scrape. Tony let himself slide from a crouch to a seated position on the cold garage floor, giving the wound a few minutes to clot; he didn't want blood all over his car parts. His head ached, and he let his eyes slip closed.

He didn't want to imagine what it would be like if they didn't get Pepper back safely, but his mind presented him with the idea nonetheless, relentless and compelling. Tony saw himself retreating, spending more and more time in his workshop, letting others run his company. Going out in the suit to mend his mistakes; coming back to an empty home and no one to scold him for taking risks.

Interviewing other assistants; none of them lasting more than a year or two, unable to deal with his coldness or his demands. Driving off Rhodey with cruel words.

A bitter man, drinking himself to death in his own basement, no one left to talk to but his AI.

 _It's not going to happen,_ he thought with grim determination. _We'll get her back._

Exhausted, he leaned back against the wall.

Jarvis' sharp voice and the pound of a fist on glass woke him from an uneasy sleep. Tony sat up straight, startled, and focused on Happy banging on the door on the other side of the workshop. "Open it, Jarvis," he ordered, scrambling to his feet despite muscles cramped and aching with lactic acid.

The lock beeped and Happy practically tumbled through the doorway. "They've found something," he gasped.

Tony ran across the floor. "What? What is it?"

"Don't know." Happy held the door for him out of sheer reflex, and jogged behind as Tony leaped up the stairs. "Donovan says they got a call--not from the kidnappers, from somebody else."

The agent was waiting at the top of the stairs, snapping off orders to Cross and Shaw, who nodded and headed towards the front door as Tony skidded to a halt. Rhodey was struggling up from the couch, bleary-eyed and worried. "What did you find out?" Tony demanded.

"Do you know a Mr. and Mrs. Pointreaux?" Donovan asked, his gaze intent.

Tony frowned at the non sequitur. "A little, yeah, why?" The Pointreaux were a wealthy couple who lived on the other side of town, the husband a generation older than Tony; he'd encountered them from time to time at fundraisers and the like, but hadn't had more than a few casual conversations with them--mostly about charitable giving.

"Mr. Pointreaux says he needs to see you at once concerning Ms. Potts' abduction."

Under his cool exterior, Tony thought, Donovan looked baffled. But Tony didn't have the time to wonder. "Then let's _go._ "

He whirled and headed for the front door. "Pointreaux's place?" he demanded.

"Yes--Mr. Stark, we can--"

"I'll meet you there." He ignored Donovan's attempt to call him back. "Rhodey, get your ass over here!"

Happy was right behind Tony. "Sir, I can drive--"

"Not fast enough." Actually, Tony didn't think Hogan was well enough to drive anything, but he wasn't going to say that just now. "Rhodey, keys."

Rhodes flanked him with a sardonic look as they left the house. "What makes you think you're driving my truck?"

"None of mine have room for three, and you drive like an old woman. _Keys,_ or I go back and take the suit."

Rhodey rolled his eyes, but tossed Tony the keys he dug out of his pocket. Tony caught them and beeped open the truck, sparing a passing thought for the sheer _usefulness_ of that threat--it always seemed to work somehow. Swinging himself up into the driver's seat, he gave Rhodes and Happy barely enough time to pile in before roaring down the driveway.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Tony saw Donovan and two of his agents heading for their own vehicle, but he didn't slow down, just spared a hand to punch on the GPS. "Jarvis, you with me?"

"As always," the AI replied in the tinny tones of the device. "I am plotting the most efficient route to the Pointreaux home as we speak."

"Good." Tony accelerated as they neared the gates, Jarvis swinging them open just as he expected. Beyond, the driveway was clear, the lingering reporters held back by SI security, and Tony blasted past without slowing.

The route planned by Jarvis was designed to avoid traffic--not the shortest route, but the fastest. Tony concentrated on his driving, pushing past the speed limit at every opportunity but not taking any flashy risks. He didn't have the time or the patience to get pulled over right now.

It was when they were racing up the coastal road that Happy grunted from the back seat. "This is where they got us, sir."

Tony didn't slow, but he made a mental note of the spot, innocuous in the afternoon light. Next to him, Rhodey frowned. "I'm getting a bad feeling about this."

"Yeah? I've had a bad feeling since yesterday," Tony snapped, knowing Rhodes didn't deserve his short temper but too angry to bother reining in his tongue. Rhodey merely snorted.

The drive from Tony's home to the Pointreaux mansion would normally have taken almost half an hour; between Jarvis and Tony's driving, they made it in about seventeen minutes. Tony parked the truck in front of the grand home, which was as big as his own but much more conventionally ostentatious, and jumped out.

Rather to his surprise, a late-model coupe zoomed up just behind the truck and stopped, disgorging Donovan and Shaw. The diminutive woman, Cross, swung up out of the driver's seat, a tiny smile on her lips, and Tony had to admit himself impressed at her skills.

He ran up the steps to the front door, which opened as he reached it, revealing a tall woman in a dark uniform and Gerard Pointreaux himself, looking worried.

A medium-height, fit man in his late fifties, Pointreaux gestured them inside past his butler. "I'm glad you're here. Tony--I'm so sorry about Ms. Potts--"

He held out a hand, and Tony shook it automatically. "You said you had something for us?"

"Yes, come this way." He led them all through a high-ceilinged entrance hall to a large study. "Are these the people in charge of the investigation?"

"I'm Special Agent Frank Donovan." The agent shook Pointreaux's hand as well. "These are Agents Cross and Shaw."

Tony jerked a thumb at his friends. "Jim Rhodes, Harold Hogan. What have you got?"

Pointreaux moved to the polished table in the center of the room. "This was delivered here a few hours ago." He gestured at the items sitting in the middle of the glossy expanse--an ordinary shipping envelope, a CD in a plastic case, and a flat square box that looked as though it might once have held jewelry. "I played the disc, and then I had to do some checking of my own. You'll see--let me play it for you."

He reached for the CD, but Donovan grabbed his wrist. "If we may. Alex--"

Agent Cross was already pulling on a pair of latex gloves. As soon as they were in place she removed the CD from its case and went to the elaborate sound system in the open cabinet across the room. As she closed the CD drawer, Pointreaux picked up the remote also on the table, and pressed a button.

The familiar whirr of the reader reached Tony's ears, and then a harsh male voice spoke. _"Mr. Pointreaux. I'm sure by now you've noticed that your wife is missing. Don't worry, she's fine, and she'll be returned to you unharmed as soon as you deliver fifty million dollars to the return address on the envelope. You have until noon tomorrow."_

Baffled, Tony opened his mouth, but the voice continued. _"Just so you know we're taking good care of her--"_

A brief pause, and then a woman's voice, low and trembling just slightly. _"I'm...I'm all right. They haven't hurt me."_

Tony's augmented heart seemed to stop.

_Pepper._

" _I want to come home."_

He couldn't see. A sparkling mist filled his vision, and Tony felt as though his arc implant were trying to burn itself a bigger hole in his breastbone. As though at a distance, he heard the man again. _"You heard the lady. Be smart, and you'll get her back safe."_

_Pepper--_

"Tony. _Tony!_ " A hand squeezed his arm. "Tony, you okay?"

He blinked, and saw Rhodey peering at him, alarmed. Tony shook him off, glaring, his mind spinning. "What the _hell?_ "

Pointreaux gestured helplessly. "That was my question too. Sylvia left on a business trip yesterday morning. It took me almost an hour to reach her when I received this, but she is safe in Brussels and has no idea what this is all about."

Donovan rubbed his jaw, eyes flickering with thought. "Incredible as it may seem, the wrong woman appears to have been abducted." He lifted his gaze to look across the study, and they all turned. Above the fireplace hung an oil portrait of Mrs. Pointreaux--a woman in her late thirties, with a well-styled cloud of curly auburn hair.

It seemed impossible as well, but Tony knew that the coastal road was the fastest route between the Pointreaux mansion and the nonprofit where Sylvia volunteered. And that the couple owned a limousine that was almost the same model as his own.

"What's in the box?" he asked abruptly.

Pointreaux winced. Agent Cross picked it up and carefully lifted off the lid, blinking down at the contents and then tilting it so they could all see.

A coil of sleek strawberry hair, fastened at one end with an elastic band.

Tony's gorge rose. He couldn't tear his eyes from it, so smooth and familiar, the long strands glinting in the study's muted light. The end just beyond the elastic was ragged, and a tiny corner of Tony's mind remarked that Pepper would be furious to see her always-tidy coiffure so ruined.

The haze was returning. Tony spun on his heel and half-ran for the front door, barely making it through and to the sculpted bushes next to the steps before he lost what little was in his stomach.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to Cincoflex, whose patience is boundless, and Laura27md, who has sharp eyes. :D Love you both, ladies.
> 
> Note: what I describe regarding the water is entirely possible; I've done it.

Virginia woke after another long stretch of restless dreams, but she didn't move. There didn't seem much point. Getting up meant only that she would have to sit in the chair, or stand--there was nothing to do and nothing but another low-grade meal to anticipate.

She did open her eyes and blink at the wall a few inches from her nose, but that was all. _I wonder if they've delivered the recording to Tony yet._

It seemed likely; again, it was hard to tell the passage of time, but it felt like she'd been sleeping for hours. She bit her lip, imagining his reaction. Rage, to be sure; guilt; even fear. He _did_ care about her, she knew that--he'd nearly killed himself saving her from Stane.

And the image of him beside himself at her abduction made her throat hurt. Tony was careless, selfish, impulsive, and often clueless, but he was also a man who felt deeply and trusted rarely. In her years of working for him, Virginia had become aware of the fact that she had earned a trust he didn't often bestow, and had even been honored by it. Because as frustrating as the man could be, he was...special.

She'd seen him design bombs and missiles, create robots that could kill more efficiently than any human, program targeting satellites capable of pinpointing a square inch of earth. But she'd also watched as he tossed off plans for cheap water purifiers, better medical lasers, and improved spacesuits, and had delivered to charities checks that bore his scrawled signature and enough zeros to make a banker weep.

She'd realized very early on that he was, underneath the hype and the ego, a decent man. His choices weren't always the best, but then-- _Whose are? Everyone makes mistakes._

In the stillness of her cell, Virginia realized sadly that while he had come back from captivity greatly changed, she wished he had changed just a bit more.

_I can respect him. But...I don't think I can trust him not to hurt me._

Finally her bladder made her get up. She used the facilities and brushed her teeth, more for something to do than anything else, and ran her brush through her ruined hair. It looked strange to her eyes; it had been many years since she'd worn it so short.

Her blouse and slacks, hung over the curtain rod to dry last night, were still a little damp, but Virginia was encouraged. Her lingerie _was_ dry, and she slipped it back on, wishing for deodorant and socks but counting her blessings for what she did have. The stockings were beyond hope, snagged and laddered from the concrete floors, so she left them in a heap under the sink.

Restless, she found the pen again and wandered back to her art wall. She wasn't in a caricature mood; instead, Virginia found herself sketching familiar faces. Rhodey frowning, her assistant Cedric looking surprised, Tony with that quirky look he got when he was amused. She took her time over them, being as careful as the medium and canvas would allow, trying to bring out the essence of each man rather than aiming for perfect detail.

The images made her wistful. _I wonder if I'll ever see them again._

As she put the finishing touches on Tony, Virginia heard the voices again. She took a deep breath to conceal her thrill of interest, and straightened, stretching a little as she wandered as casually as possible back to the chair. Her purse still lay on the table, and she opened it, fishing out her little bottle of lotion and applying some to her hands, rubbing slowly and straining her ears.

She didn't have to strain much; they were louder this time. One and Three, she realized, arguing.

"What the...mean, wrong one?"

"...what he said. It's all over the news."

"No way...fucking _way_."

The voices made goosebumps rise on Virginia's arms. They sounded furious, and instinct stirred, telling her that their anger did not bode well for her.

"...Stark?"

"Are you kidding? You want to...Iron Man?"

The next phrase was incomprehensible, but then Three spoke again, his voice cold. "Fix it."

The argument ceased. Virginia sat very still, her mind racing, fitting the fragments together. She didn't know what had gone wrong, but the last two words were enough.

_I think I just became a liability._

She tucked the bottle away, and glanced up at the camera.

The red light was out.

She stared at it for a moment. _No light. No video._

_No witnesses._

Virginia stood up. She felt calm and urgent at the same time, the near-Zen state she could achieve when crises came calling and action had to be both swift and precise. There was no time to break the mirror, unfortunately, but she still had her keys.

Moving quickly, she slung her purse over her shoulder and across her chest, pushing it behind her to get it out of the way. She snatched down her blouse and slacks and dumped them on the cot, piling the blankets over them in a rough attempt to make it look as though the bed were occupied.

The keys were tucked into the waistband of her scrub bottoms. Virginia pulled them out and gripped them in her right fist, blades poking out between her knuckles, and went to stand behind the door.

She was anticipating a wait of several minutes at least, but she had hardly reached her goal when the lock clicked. She stepped back as the door swung open, grateful that her feet were soundless on the hard floor, and let Two walk past before she moved.

He was not wearing the mask this time, and she caught a glimpse of brown hair and a thin young face. He was just starting to turn as she drove her key-spiked fist into his lower back as hard as she could.

Two yelped, staggering, and Virginia twisted past him and out the door, slamming it shut behind her. She didn't have time to figure out the lock; she bolted right, hoping desperately that she'd been right in her calculations.

She had. The end of the corridor was no further than the width of her cell, an outer door with a crash bar blocking her way. She didn't bother slowing down.

As the bar gave way, she heard someone shouting furiously behind her, and she stumbled out onto a concrete sidewalk that bordered a stretch of asphalt. Beyond that was scrubby-looking woodland.

Heedless of her bare feet, Virginia raced for the trees, not even daring to look around for help. As she reached the line of brush, she heard the door slam open again behind her, and she shoved frantically through the bushes, trying to reach the shadow of the trees beyond. More shouts rose, accompanied by a popping noise, and a tree trunk ahead of her seemed to spray splinters and bark. _Hell, they've got guns--_

She ducked, and kept running--staggering, slipping on the rough ground and pine needles, her feet already on fire, but never stopping. More shots sounded, though she didn't see any more bullets land, and she didn't have breath or balance to spare to look behind.

 _Can't keep this up much longer--got to find someplace to hide--_ She wished breathlessly that she'd changed back into her damp clothes. The dark slacks and jacket would have stood out much less than the sky-blue scrubs.

The ground was sloping downward, steeper and steeper, and at one point it actually became easier for her to sit and slide rather than try to keep herself upright. She could hear the yells still, threats that made her shudder, but they weren't yet on top of her--

The slope leveled off suddenly into sand, and Virginia halted. Her way was barred by water. More than a creek, less than a true river, the stream ran brown and clear, carrying snowmelt from the mountains down to the sea.

There was no choice. She waded in as fast as she could, gasping as its chill hit her abraded feet, and dropped down to try to swim to the other side. The water wasn't deep, only about five feet, but swimming would be faster than trying to walk across the streambed.

It was when she was about halfway across and fighting the current that the idea dawned. Virginia had played in similar watercourses as a child, and she knew their characteristics.

Turning over to face the way she'd come, she saw two men clambering down the hillside to the water's edge. One held a pistol of some kind.

As he stopped and took aim, Virginia dove underwater and kicked, aligning herself with the current. At this width, it wasn't very strong, but it carried her along faster than swimming alone, and she opened her eyes and peered through the sparkling water, grateful for the sunlight that lit it. If her pursuer fired, she didn't hear it.

She was a good thirty yards downstream before she had to surface for air. She stroked forward hard, aiming for the cluster of rocks she could see ahead of her, keeping herself as low in the water as possible. The current sped up as the water forced itself between the big boulders, and she twisted around so that her feet pointed downstream.

The rocks were smooth, and velvety with algae--downright slippery, in fact. She slid through the gaps, sliding and bouncing down with the rush of water, bruising herself as she pushed off and around the hard rounded shapes. The stretch of little rapids was not long, but it took her quickly away from her pursuers, and when she reached quieter water and glanced back, she couldn't see them at all.

_Whew._

Virginia let herself relax a little, floating instead of swimming, but she didn't strike out for either shore. The stream looked to be more of the same ahead, shallow rapids easy to slide through and another length of calm water. _Probably a good idea to keep going for a while. This is easier than walking, for one thing._

The cold had eased some of the pain in her feet. She rolled over and swam forward again, aiming for the next set of rapids and keeping her ears open for both pursuit and the roar that would mean a steeper fall than she wanted to handle. Her waterlogged purse dragged a little, but there was nothing she could do about it at the moment, and she didn't want to give up its contents.

She was slightly cold, but as long as she kept moving she knew she would be fine. The top layer of water was warm where the sun hit it, but chillier just below, golden-brown in the sun and sparkling with mica dust. It smelled fresh and clean, and the trees overhead were outlined sharply against the bright sky.

It was really beautiful.

* * *

Pointreaux had actually brought him ginger ale. Tony sat on the steps and held the glass in one hand, though he couldn't bring himself to taste the stuff.

"Sorry about your bushes," he mumbled, and Pointreaux patted him distractedly on the shoulder.

"Believe me, I understand. When I thought it was Sylvia--" He shook his head.

Beyond him, Donovan and his people were talking in low urgent voices. Happy leaned against the wall next to the door, arms folded and his bruised face garish in the sunlight, and Rhodey stood watching the agents. Tony swallowed sourly and tried to breathe deeply, reminding himself that there was no blood on the ponytail, no sign that Pepper had actually been injured--

 _And she was alive when they made that recording._ Alive, and probably unhurt--she'd sounded scared to death, but without that hitch that meant she was in pain. Tony hadn't heard it often, but he knew that sound by heart.

_I can't believe this, though--she was kidnapped by_ _**mistake** _ _?_

He wasn't sure if that was hilarious, sickening, or both.

Donovan paced over to Pointreaux. "Sir, there's a possibility that the kidnappers aren't yet aware that they've taken the wrong woman..."

Pointreaux nodded quickly. "Anything I can do to help, Agent Donovan, I will do. Do you think we should put together the ransom?"

Tony tilted his head back to look up at both men. "I've already got that under control." Squire and his people were still standing by, and fifty million wouldn't be difficult to amass, given a few hours.

Donovan nodded too. "That's probably wise."

Tony waved a hand. "We can work out the details when we get back to the house."

Donovan's cellphone chimed, and he plucked it from his belt, murmuring an apology and stepping away. Almost immediately, Tony's went off as well.

Setting the glass aside, Tony answered the device, curiosity warring with the remnants of nausea when he saw the ID. "H'lo?"

Jarvis' cultured tones filled his ear. "Sir, Agent Donovan's team has just completed a list of Nyblom's possible associates. They appear to have a number of locations."

The jolt of adrenaline was almost painful, and Tony welcomed it. He pushed to his feet. "Sweet. Where?"

"A first destination has not yet been chosen. I believe Agent Donovan intends to return here to examine the data in person."

"All right. We'll head back too. Prep the suit, Jarvis, I think we'll be going hunting."

He snapped the phone shut and stuck out a hand to Pointreaux. "We've got to get moving. Thanks for...everything."

Pointreaux returned a firm shake. "I hope you find her, Stark. As I said, anything I can do to help."

Tony nodded once, and headed for the truck, fishing out the keys.

Rhodey caught up with him halfway there, plucking the keys from his hand. "I'm driving back."

Tony eyed the handful of metal, debating a snatch. "Says who?"

"Says the legal registered owner of this vehicle. Besides, if you think I'm going to let you drive in this condition you need to adjust your thinking." Rhodey's tease was half-serious, and Tony admitted to himself that he really didn't feel well enough to drive safely just yet.

"Fine, just get a move on." He circled around to the passenger side, waiting impatiently as Happy clambered into the back. As Tony slid into the passenger seat, Donovan and Cross appeared, blocking his reach for the door.

"Mr. Stark, I'd really like to know how you're accessing our information." The agent's eyes were hard, though his tone was still polite.

Tony squinted at him. "You set up your operations _in my house,_ and you hooked into its power and phone system. My AI has been watching every move you make."

Agent Cross, on Donovan's left, snickered, eyes crinkling. "Cody did warn you."

Donovan closed his eyes and exhaled sharply, the most human thing Tony had seen him do yet. "So he did. Very well, Stark, but _we're_ in charge of any rescue operations, do you understand that?"

The truck's engine roared to life, and Tony grabbed the door. "Uh-huh," he said, and pulled. Donovan stepped out of the way, and Rhodey barely waited for Tony to slam it shut before speeding down the drive.

The return trip wasn't quite as fast as the first one, but they still made it back in a reasonable time. Tony spent it leaning against the window glass, cool against his aching head, trying to keep his stomach settled and struggling to plan for unknown contingencies.

_Pepper. Hang on._

He had a timing-itch, now. They had a deadline--whether it was the kidnappers' _tomorrow at noon_ or something sooner, Tony didn't know, but it was there, and it was making his skin want to crawl off and _do_ something.

He wondered what would happen when the abductors realized they had the wrong woman, if they ever did. Would they latch on to the possibilities Tony Stark represented for ransom, or would they panic and try to get rid of the evidence?

He very much feared it would be the latter.

Rhodey drove straight to the garage this time, and Tony was out of the truck almost before it had stopped. "Jarvis, status report."

"Suit diagnostics are all green," the AI replied as Tony headed for the closet where he kept the neoprene liners he wore underneath. "May I suggest delaying until a destination is decided upon?"

Tony ignored that and chose a liner. "Rhodey, did you get a look at the return address on that package?" Normally he himself wouldn't have overlooked such a detail, but he'd been severely distracted.

"Yeah, inputting now." Rhodey busied himself at one terminal, then stepped back as Jarvis analyzed the address and threw it up on the big screen. The map was superimposed over an aerial view, and showed what looked like a very large sandy pit.

"The address given is in fact a construction site," Jarvis announced. "Work there has been halted due to a conflict with the city zoning board."

"So it's abandoned?" Tony asked, stripping out of his clothes and not caring about the other two. Rhodey had seen him change before, and Happy _drove_ him. Which had sometimes meant ferrying around two--or more--people having sex in the back seat of the limo. Tony didn't think watching him change clothes would faze the man.

"Unmanned, rather," Jarvis corrected. "Am I correct in assuming this is the location specified for delivery of the ransom?"

"Yeah, you got it." Tony yanked the neoprene past his knees. "Anything useful?"

"The deadline's tomorrow, Jarvis," Rhodey interjected. "I don't think there'll be anyone there right _now._ "

"Not at this time, but Agent Donovan's team is running cross-checks on the property and those associated with it."

"Good. Keep me posted." Tony shrugged the liner over his shoulders and zipped it up, then tossed a sweatshirt on top of that to hide the arc reactor from view. He was going to start sweating soon, but that always happened anyway.

"In addition, Agent Donovan and his people have just returned," Jarvis informed him.

"Let's go find out what's going on, then," Tony said, turning for the stairs.

Rhodey snickered as he and Happy followed. "You going to go up dressed like that, man? It doesn't leave much to the imagination, you know."

Tony glanced back as he jogged up the steps, raising a brow. "What? I've got nothing to be ashamed of."

Happy coughed, and Rhodey just rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Agent Davis' expression did get somewhat rigid when they reached the living room, but Tony had no time for extraneous details. "Where?" he demanded as soon as he saw Donovan.

"Patience, Mr. Stark," the agent said, barely blinking as he took in Tony's attire. "We're only human."

"Yeah, so's Pepper," Tony snapped. "What do you think they'll do if they figure out they've got the wrong woman?"

Donovan grimaced. "If we're lucky, they'll shift their plan. Or just abandon her. If these are professionals, they won't have allowed her to see their faces."

Tony glared up at him, saying what the other man wouldn't. "Or maybe they'll just dispose of her and get out. Which is why we don't have any time to waste."

"Mr. Stark." Donovan managed to loom without taking a step forward, an impressive achievement. "I understand that you are worried about Ms. Potts, but you have to let us do our jobs."

A skinny man with curly hair appeared in the hallway leading to the study where the police had settled. "We got a hit! The upstate place."

Tony stiffened. "Jarvis?"

"I have it, sir," the AI answered.

Before Tony could move, Donovan grabbed his arm. "This is an FBI operation, Mr. Stark. _Stand down._ There is no room for civilian--"

Tony threw off his grip, irritated. Donovan took that step, and suddenly Happy was between the two of them, blocking the agent's path to Tony.

At once, Cross and Davis had their guns in their hands, aimed at Happy. _"Back off!"_ Cross shouted.

For an instant no one moved. Then Rhodey raised his hands. " _Hey!_ People! Calm _down._ We're all on the same side here, remember?"

Happy, who hadn't moved, stared straight at Donovan. The two were of a height, though Happy was wider, and for a long breathless moment neither blinked.

Then Donovan inclined his head, and stepped back slowly. "At ease," he said calmly. "Colonel Rhodes is correct."

The two agents exchanged glances, and lowered their weapons. Tony let his hands, which had clenched into fists the second he saw the guns come out, relax. Fresh rage filled him at the sight of weapons drawn _in his house,_ not to mention threatening his driver, though technically Happy was also a bodyguard. But now was not the time to deal with it. _I can file a lawsuit later._

"Gentlemen," he said to his friends, his voice even. "Come with me please."

Happy turned first, after a last glare at Donovan, and then Rhodey lowered his hands. Tony spun and headed for the stairs, knowing that neither man would let him go third.

As soon as they were safely through the door, he tore off the sweatshirt. "Lock it down, Jarvis," he growled. "And let's go."

"Agent Donovan is calling for air backup," Jarvis noted mildly as the assembly 'bots began to move. "It would appear that he intends to keep you from leaving the ground."

Tony snorted. "How long does he think this takes? Rhodey, Hogan, you'll have to tag along with them." He stepped into the embrace of the 'bots and let them wrap the suit around him, every movement an addition of power and strength.

When the assembly was complete, Tony glanced back at his friends. Rhodey was smirking just slightly, but Hogan's eyes were wide, and it occurred to Tony--a little late--that Happy had never actually seen this part of the process before.

He gave the man a nod--the only thanks he knew Hogan would accept. Happy straightened, and nodded back, and Tony flipped down his faceplate and let Jarvis take him up and out the garage tunnel.

It was a relief of sorts to soar up into the sun. Whatever aerial support Donovan had called for had not yet arrived, and Tony arced up and away, putting space between himself and his home. He didn't have time to waste dodging choppers.

"Let's go, Jarvis," he repeated. The map flashed up on the HUD, and Tony grinned fiercely and left the sound barrier behind.

On the way he placed a call to Squire, telling the man to start putting together fifty million dollars in cash and to contact Donovan for further details. Tony didn't like the agent, but if paying the ransom--or using it as bait--was what it took to get Pepper back, he had no problem playing along.

The flight was ridiculously short, in fact. Jarvis explained as Tony flew; the address the police had found was just over a hundred miles away, a little abandoned industrial building up in the mountains that had suddenly had its power and water turned back on despite the lack of a new lease. Just one of many such installations, Tony thought as he slowed down; for whatever reason, it hadn't managed success, and whoever had built the space had departed, leaving it empty.

And, apparently, the perfect space for someone with keys to use for unsavory purposes. The building was tucked off a two-lane road, barely standing out from the pine forest that covered the surrounding hills. "Give me a reading, Jarvis," he said, coming to a hover some fifty yards overhead; he wasn't quite ready to let those inside know he was there.

"Two heat signatures." Jarvis pinpointed them on the HUD, colored blobs superimposed on the roof below. There was no way to be more precise at that range, and Tony dropped lower, trying to decide whether he should go in the front door, the back door, or the roof.

As he watched, one of the heat signatures moved towards the back of the building, and then a figure emerged from the back door, immediately turning left and heading for the car parked at the end of the back driveway.

 _Oh no you don't._ Tony let himself fall out of the sky, trusting the repulsors to take the shock as he landed between the person and the vehicle.

It was a man, medium height, probably in his mid-thirties, with a hard angry face that went dead pale at the sight of Iron Man. Without hesitating, he yanked a gun from his waistband and began firing.

 _They always try that, and it never works._ The man's aim was good, but the bullets simply ricocheted away, hardly even denting the metal of the suit. Normally Tony would have blasted the man backwards with one pulse, but he most definitely wanted him in a condition to talk, so he took three quick strides forward and backhanded the gun away.

He tried to keep the blow light, but the man's arm still flew wide and he yelped. Tony grabbed a fistful of his shirt and lifted him off his feet. _"Where's Pepper?"_

The man _laughed._ Tony shook him, his rage swelling, and the man yelped again, trying to pry Tony's grip loose. " _Tell_ me," Tony hissed.

"Gone," the man finally gasped. His face twisted. "You're too late."

Tony wanted very, very much to throw him into the nearest wall. Instead he looked around, spotted an old and battered Dumpster a few yards away, and strode over to it. Lifting the lid, he dumped the man inside, slammed the lid shut, and crimped it closed with a squeeze of both hands along the rim. Then he whirled and headed for the door from which the man had emerged.

It was closed, and yanking the handle made it snap off in his gauntlet. Tony dropped the useless piece of metal and dug his fingers into the edge of the door for a good grip before pulling. The lock gave way, and Tony let the door go and stepped inside.

There was no one in the hallway ahead of him. Tony took one step forward, hesitated, and turned back.

It was a moment's work to turn his repulsors on the car, pulverizing the engine block. Tony didn't want his remaining target escaping while his back was turned.

The hallway had several doors opening off of it at irregular intervals. The heat signature was in the first room on the right, and Tony strode forward, his boots thudding on the concrete floor.

The door wasn't locked. When he shoved it open, the room's inhabitant didn't move, and it was pretty obvious why. The rangy form in a flannel shirt lay discarded in the middle of the room, most of the contents of his head redistributed along the floor and wall beyond him.

 _He can't have been dead for very long--he's still giving off a lot of heat._ Tony gave the corpse one cold glance and left it behind; right now the only thing he wanted to know was what had happened to Pepper, and the room was empty but for the body.

He went back outside, striding over to the Dumpster and prying it open again. His captive was sitting on the empty, rusted floor, and squinted up at Iron Man with a mixture of defiance and fear.

"Incoming aircraft," Jarvis said in Tony's ears.

Tony ignored him for the moment and extended one arm with deliberate slowness, bringing the repulsor up to its ready glow. "Tell me where she is," he growled.

His prisoner held very still, eyes fixed on Tony's gauntlet. For a long moment, he didn't move, and then he spat a curse. "Don't know."

The rhythmic thunder of blades filled the air. Tony looked up to see three military helicopters dropping out of the sky to land in front of the building, and swore himself.

Stepping back, he shut down the repulsor and gestured. "Get out of there."

His prisoner stood shakily, but his arm was hanging at an odd angle and Tony realized that he'd probably dislocated it when he'd hit the man. He stepped back as various uniformed personnel charged around the side of the building, most of them bearing weapons; his prisoner cursed again, and clutched his wounded shoulder with his other hand.

Among those approaching were Rhodey and Donovan, both of them jogging towards Tony and each looking as though he was trying to beat the other without being obvious about it. Exasperated and angry, Tony allowed the uniforms to take his prisoner. He couldn't really cross his arms in the suit, but he didn't raise his visor; the smooth shell was useful to intimidate.

Donovan was white-hot furious, that was obvious. "Mr. Stark," he began as he and Rhodey reached Tony, his voice tight and very controlled. "Do you have any idea how many regulations you've violated? Vigilante justice is not--"

"He said she's gone." Tony cut him off without a qualm, turning instead to Rhodey, whose preoccupied glance at Donovan turned into a sharp stare at Tony. "I haven't had time to check the place yet, but he said she's _gone._ "

Rhodey's face hardened. "Let's make sure, then. There's only one?"

Tony jerked his head towards the building. "There's another inside. He was dead when I got here." He turned to go back, and Donovan raised his voice.

"Stark, you can't ignore--"

"Tell it to my attorneys." Tony didn't bother to stop.

It wasn't until they were entering the building that Rhodey spoke. "Playing hero overseas is one thing, Tony, but I think you just got yourself in a whole load of trouble."

"I don't fucking _care._ " Tony passed the room with the corpse and tried the next door, stepping into the room beyond. "One of them was leaving when I got here. If I'd been here sooner, the other one might not be dead."

The room held three camp cots with wrinkled heaps of blankets, a couple of piles of clothing, and a small TV. Tony backed out and went to the next door, across the hall. "If Donovan had cooperated from the start, we might have gotten here before Pepper--whatever."

The second room had a couch, a chair, and a small table with a mess of magazines and empty soda bottles on it. An open door showed a small empty washroom, not very clean.

The third door had a lock, and Tony gritted his teeth before opening it, because with each door his fear that he would find Pepper _gone_ on the other side increased.

The lock wasn't engaged, however. The knob turned easily.

At first glance the room beyond looked like the others, with a messy bed-cot and a table and chair. But Tony _knew._ "This is where they kept her," he muttered, and raised his visor.

The curtain hung to block the washroom was askew; there was no one there. But with his face bare Tony could _smell_ her, a ghost of scent in the air.

"I think you're right." Rhodey slipped past him to peer into the washroom, then stepped inside. "Looks like hers." He held up a hairbrush.

Tony shook his head numbly. "Where is she?"

Marks on the wall caught his eye, and Tony went over for a closer look.

He knew Pepper drew; he'd seen her with a sketchbook a time or two on long plane rides, and she had a habit of doodling when meetings got excessively boring. But he'd never seen the results.

Behind his shoulder, Rhodey laughed, the sound unexpected. "Would you look at that."

The little cartoons made Tony's lips tug up even in the midst of his fear. She had captured them all, even herself, and he had to admit the situations were funny. The image of him propositioning his own car--

"When we get her back, I'm gonna ask her to do me one of these." Rhodey tapped the picture of himself straddling a plane. "I didn't even know she could draw."

"Hidden talent," Tony muttered, bending for a closer look at the portraits a few inches further along the wall. The three faces, done with such loving care, put a lump in his throat.

Voices in the corridor made him straighten. Tony frowned at the cot, then lifted the blanket to reveal a badly wrinkled blouse and slacks half-hidden beneath. "What the hell?" His stomach knotted. "Why are her clothes here?"

The implications of Pepper stripped naked were absolutely horrifying.

Rhodey frowned as well, fingering the blouse, then pointed to the table. "I think she changed. See, there's a set of scrubs, and this is damp."

"You think that's--" He couldn't finish the words, and Rhodey shot him a sharp glance.

"Let's hope not, man. Either way--"

If they'd hurt her, assaulted her, he was going to kill them. Whoever was left. Tony realized his fingers were one movement from bringing up his repulsors, and forced them back through the shutdown sequence.

Footsteps moved past the door, the agents passing through. "I'll see if I can find out what they know," Rhodey said absently, and jogged after them. Tony growled impatiently.

"Jarvis. Is there any trace of what might have happened to Pepper?"

"Difficult to say," his AI answered. "There are no signs of violence aside from the death in the first room, and the blood spatter there indicates that he was the only victim."

"So they moved her--took her out, maybe, into the forest..." Tony gazed at the scrubby trees that backed onto the asphalt lot. He didn't like that idea either, Pepper forced into the wilderness for--what? An execution? Simple abandonment?

Would a shallow grave show up on Jarvis' sensors?

He swallowed thickly. "I think we're going to need a search and rescue team."

"Agent Donovan has already called for one," Jarvis said. "ETA is ninety-five minutes."

 _She could have been driven away,_ Tony reminded himself. _We need to find out if they had more than one vehicle._

But as he faced the wild land, he had a sinking feeling that Pepper was farther away than ever.

* * *

Virginia stayed in the river a long time. It was much easier than trying to force her way through the brush on either side, and it would make it that much harder for her pursuers to track her--if they were even bothering.

_I don't want to find out the hard way._

She still had no real idea where she was, aside from someplace high enough in elevation to have pine trees, and she knew that she might be traveling further away from whatever civilization was to be found in the area, but Virginia didn't want to stop just yet.

There were stretches when she had to wade, or carefully pick her way among the tumbled rocks of a rapids too shallow to swim through, but she made steady progress downstream. When the sun began to shine in her eyes, however, she decided that it was time to get out of the water. _I need to dry off before nightfall._

It took a little while to find a likely-looking landing spot on the far side of the river, but eventually there was a slope gentle enough that it wouldn't be too hard to climb, and a wide flat boulder by the water's edge. She hoisted her dripping self up onto the sandy expanse and shivered.

Glancing around out of habit, she pulled off her scrubs and wrung them out as best she could, then squeezed water from her hair and laid the clothing out to dry for a bit. It felt indecent to be in the open in her underwear, though it covered more than some bikinis.

"Relax," Virginia muttered to herself, dumping out the contents of her purse. "Who's going to see you?"

Her keys, which she'd tucked into the bag as soon as she'd gotten out of range of her pursuers, were fine, as were the lotion, the tampons, and the sewing kit in its sealed box. The makeup, breath mints, and aspirin she wrote off at once, and the receipts and tissues were hardly more than handfuls of pulp. The soggy granola bar she tossed into the water to surprise some lucky fish, though she kept the wrapper rather than trash the landscape.

Her wallet was waterlogged. She opened it carefully and pulled everything out; the cards were probably fine, but her checkbook was ruined. She used her change to weigh down the thirty-three dollars in bills so the sun could work on those too.

As her skin dried, Virginia began to feel less chilly. _I'll probably have a sunburn, but there's no helping that._ She examined her abraded feet as she waited, and winced. Both her soles had sustained cuts--shallow ones, but painful. They had long since stopped bleeding, but she knew she would quickly acquire more if she didn't protect her feet somehow.

She considered her meager assets, spread out on the rock. _I could tear the sleeves off the top, but I don't think they'd last very long._

The only other alternative was her purse. She sighed at the idea of taking it apart, but it was already ruined, and it was big enough that she would have enough leather to wrap around her feet.

Retrieving the little sewing kit, Virginia extracted the tiny scissors that her captors had overlooked. Or ignored; they were flimsy things. Pulling the soggy purse onto her lap, she opened the scissors and began ripping at the seams.

By the time she had separated the bag into two halves and turned the damp sleeves of her top into tie strips, the sun was sinking below the treetops and the air was starting to chill. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes and blinked, a little dizzy.

 _Well, no wonder, silly. You haven't eaten all day._ Unfortunately, that wasn't something she could help at the moment. Thirst was a bigger problem; her mouth was sticky and her throat dry.

Virginia eyed the river she'd just swum down, terribly tempted. It seemed clean--certainly it was unpolluted enough to be full of life--but despite having gotten a little in her mouth on some of the rougher rapids she wasn't sure it was safe to actually swallow in any quantity.

Finally she sighed, and dipped up some to cool her hot face. It smelled sweet and fresh, and she cupped her hand and sipped cautiously. _It's not like I have a lot of choice. The odds of finding a spring around here are slim even if I knew where to look._

The water _tasted_ fine, at least, though it was a bit gritty. She drank several mouthfuls, enough to soothe the edge of her thirst, though not enough to really satisfy her. _It'll have to do for the moment._

Pulling on her damp clothes, she looked up the slope she'd chosen. It was strange to find herself in the middle of what looked to be wilderness, without resources or even shoes, but she had to admit it beat the alternative. _Still, I need to find someplace to sleep before it gets totally dark._ Without a light source she would have to stay in one place until morning.

Her makeshift shoes proved trickier than she had hoped. The leather pieces wrapped around her feet easily enough, but securing them in place was much more difficult; the ties simply slipped off as soon as she took a few steps. Finally, desperate and desperately annoyed, she sat back down and bored crude holes in the edges of the leather, cursing it and the intractability of her scissors under her breath.

Though when the scissors broke apart halfway through the first piece, it actually made the boring process easier.

The light was beginning to fade by the time Virginia laced the leather onto her feet. The results were sloppy and loose, and hard to walk in, but they protected her soles and kept the sand out of her cuts, and she was willing to settle for that.

She reassembled her wallet--still damp at the seams but it couldn't be helped--and stretched out the front of her top to form a shallow pocket. Into it she placed all the items she'd taken from her purse. It wasn't an ideal solution at all, but she didn't want to leave anything behind.

_You never know what will turn out to be useful._

The shadows under the trees were getting deeper. Virginia scrambled carefully off the rock, crossed the tiny strip of beach beyond, and began climbing the hill, placing her slipshod feet with care and holding out her free hand for balance. The other one clutched her makeshift pocket closed.

Progress was slow. She ducked under branches and stepped over tangles of plants, and lost her footing twice, though the litter of leaves on the ground saved her from more than a scratch or two. When she reached the top of the hill, she straightened and looked around, breathless.

There was little to see in the twilight--just more of the same, trees and brush descending slightly and then climbing again to form another, steeper hill. She grimaced; she had been hoping for some sign of civilization.

She leaned against a convenient tree, suddenly drained. She was starving and tired and still damp; her feet hurt and her nose was sunburned; she'd had week from _hell_ so far and it didn't look to be improving any time soon.

She swallowed back the frustrated tears that threatened to betray her. _That won't help anything. Think! You can't do anything until morning, so find a place to sleep._

The temperature was dropping as night came on. Virginia pushed away from the tree and faced the problem. Looking around at the forest floor, she found a stick that was at least three feet long and picked it up, and then went looking for a boulder or an outcrop that she could put her back against.

She didn't find one, but she did step in a hollow concealed by a drift of leaves, and when she was done swearing, Virginia realized that it could be the answer to her dilemma. Squinting in the dusk, she poked into the dry leaves with her stick until she was satisfied that there was nothing inhabiting them, and then lay cautiously down.

It was by no means _comfortable,_ but the leaves provided both a thin cushion and, with some wriggling, a cover of sorts. She very carefully didn't think about bugs, instead concentrating on the way the leaves trapped her body heat, and the fact that they actually smelled fairly nice--woody and sweet. She laid her head on her arm and stared into the darkness, hoping that her empty stomach would let her go to sleep.

This time, when the tears pressed, she let them escape, trickling silently down her cheeks to drop into her leafy mattress. Hunger, cold, and exhaustion all took second place to an aching sense of loneliness.

Virginia had no family left, and few close friends. But her life was filled with people--she was constantly interacting with colleagues, contacts, anyone and everyone as her job demanded. She communicated all day, interfacing between her boss and the rest of the world, making and taking calls, texting, e-mailing--even when she wasn't speaking, there was a constant stream of words.

It was silent now. No, not quite--there were rustles and taps and the constant hissing hush of the river--but none of it was addressed to her.

She sniffled, and wondered abruptly what this adventure would be like if Tony were a part of it. And her tears gave way to a giggle, because he would be _impossible._

 _He'd probably be up half the night trying to construct a treehouse to sleep in. And complaining. And setting the forest alight trying to start a campfire._ Tony was a genius, and remarkably good at coping with odd situations, but he didn't do well with no access to technology.

If she had to be stuck in the forest with someone, she thought, Rhodey would be a better choice; he had survival training and was a good deal more patient.

In her mind's eye, though, Tony materialized, sitting with his back against the tree closest to her, his chest piece giving off almost enough light to read by. _"Come on, Potts,"_ he coaxed, smirking at her. _"You know we have to snuggle to conserve body heat."_

 _Like you ever snuggled with anyone,_ her imagination retorted. But the vision was a tempting one; feeling him slide into the leaves behind her and press up against her back, his warmth soaking into her spine and his arm sliding over her hip.

Somehow she knew he would be warm.

Comfort in the darkness, guard against the unknown, because Tony _would_ protect her whether she liked it or not--

Virginia closed her wet eyes tightly, and waited for dawn.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony was getting absolutely sick of trees.

He had nothing against them in general, but at that particular moment he would happily consign them all to toothpicks if doing so would give him a clear view of the ground. He had been flying a grid pattern over the forest near the kidnappers' lair for hours, with very little result.

"How many deer have we found again?" he asked Jarvis grumpily.

"Twelve." The AI was imperturbable. "And two bobcats."

Tony had naively assumed that a human would be easy to pick out of the wilderness using thermographic sensors. He hadn't realized just how many living things there were down there--nor how many had signatures similar to humans. He'd startled more wildlife than he had ever seen in a month, let alone a day, as well as surprising quite a few campers and hikers.

None of the latter, however, had seen any trace of Pepper.

It had taken hours to get the search started. First the kidnapper had refused to speak until he had a lawyer; then he'd grudgingly revealed that the third member of their team had gotten away. Finally learning that two of the kidnappers had chased Pepper unsuccessfully into the woods had at least given Tony and the agents someplace to start. But the search and rescue teams had taken three hours to show up despite Jarvis' initial ETA. Tony had started his own sweeps, keeping abreast of developments via the radio chatter--SAR arriving, volunteers coming in, scent dogs setting off.

But the dogs had halted at the river, and been unable to pick up a trace on the other side. The local Sheriff's office had contributed nearly twenty searchers who knew the ground. But it was slow going, and so far...

...So far, there had been nothing at all.

"Are you _sure_ bobcats won't bother her?" Tony demanded again.

"Bobcats tend to avoid humans altogether," the AI repeated patiently. "Cougars, on the other hand, have been known to prey on humans, though rarely."

Tony's spine, which had begun to relax slightly, tensed up again. " _Great_. And how many cougars are there out here?"

"Probably very few." Jarvis' tone was just this side of lecturing. "Prey recognition is learned behavior in cougars; in this area a large cat is unlikely to consider Pepper a target."

"What about bears?" Tony had never heard of a bear in the region around Malibu, but cataloging local wildlife wasn't exactly one of his interests.

"We are outside the range of native bear species," Jarvis assured him. "Pepper is more at risk from exposure and injury due to falls than from animals."

"That's _so_ reassuring." Tony kept to his search pattern despite his aching muscles. He sometimes wore the suit for two days at a stretch; this was nothing.

The trouble with the suit, though, was that he couldn't rub his eyes when they started to blur. "Up the resolution, Jarvis, I'm having trouble seeing the ground."

"That's because the sun has gone down, sir."

Tony blinked, and realized the AI was correct. "Fuck. How long have we been searching?"

"You have been scanning for approximately five hours. The SAR teams began returning to the base point almost forty minutes ago."

 _And we have_ _ **nothing**_ _._ It was unbelievable. Pepper seemed to have vanished completely.

 _Unless,_ whispered the dark voice in the back of his brain, _she's already dead._

A corpse would be cold, which would keep Tony's sensors from spotting it; though, he supposed, the searchers on the ground would be just as likely to find that as to find a living person.

Given the roughness of the wilderness, searchers had only expanded about four miles out. Tony supposed that Pepper could have gone back up to the road at some point and hitched a ride, though hitching didn't sound like his practical PA at all.

_Or those two scumbags could be lying, and they shot her and left her somewhere, or even buried her._

Or hit her without realizing it, and she'd fled into the woods to die of blood loss under some fucking tree--

"Sir, your blood pressure is abnormally high," Jarvis said, breaking into Tony's macabre train of thought. "Perhaps it is time you took a break."

"Pepper's still out there," Tony retorted. "And I can see in the dark."

Before Jarvis could reply, Rhodey's ringtone sounded in Tony's helmet, and he sighed and answered the call. "Yeah."

"You need to come in, Tony," Rhodey said tiredly. He'd been out searching too. "It's getting dark and Pepper's probably holed up somewhere to wait for morning."

"If she's not hurt," Tony shot back angrily.

"Even if she is." Rhodey's voice was firm. "Tony, you're not going to do her any good if you pass out. And before you tell me that you've stayed in that thing longer, you haven't slept in over a day and you haven't eaten since this morning. And you puked up most of that."

"Low blow," Tony muttered.

"You know I'm right, though." Rhodes didn't sound smug, only weary. "Look, just come back and take a break for a while. You'll do a better job searching if you get a little rest."

Tony closed his burning eyes briefly. "All right."

It was defeat, even if he knew he could go out again soon. Rhodey was right, Jarvis was right, but it was bitter to have to turn around. Tony kept his eyes on the sensor readings as he sped back to the temporary base at the kidnappers' building, just in case. But there was nothing.

Rhodey met him as soon as Tony landed, holding a paper cup of steaming coffee. Tony flipped up his visor and took it gratefully. "Anything?"

Rhodey shook his head, his expression bleak. "We would have called you, man."

Tony grimaced, and swallowed coffee. The parking lot was full of people, searchers mostly and a few members of the press. They milled around, talking or lining up at the big coffee urns someone had brought in. Tony spotted the tall form of Agent Donovan across the way, giving orders to someone. Donovan was still technically in charge of things even though Pepper was no longer captive, but Tony decided to avoid the man for the moment. Time spent arguing with Donovan would be search time wasted.

"The Sheriff got someone to bring in food," Rhodey said, waving at the coffee tables. "Better get some before it's all gone."

"Yeah." On some level, Tony knew he was hungry, but the thought of food held no appeal. Still, the sooner he ate, the sooner he could get back into the air.

_Pepper._

He tossed his empty cup in a nearby trash can and tramped over to the tables, which held plastic trays of pre-assembled sandwiches. There seemed to be a bit of a line, but as Tony neared it dissolved, civilians and deputies alike melting out of his way. They shot him wary or curious glances, and under other circumstances Tony might have turned on his charm and attempted to put them at ease, but right now he just didn't have the energy--or attention--to spare.

Instead, he stripped off one gauntlet and picked up a couple of sandwiches, then retreated back to where Rhodey was leaning against the building's front wall.

Arms crossed, Rhodey looked asleep. Tony knew that the colonel could in fact sleep standing up--a skill picked up in basic training--but as Tony thumped closer Rhodey opened his eyes a fraction. "You really need a stealth mode for that thing."

Tony stuffed half a sandwich in his mouth and tilted his head. "What makes you think I normally move that _slow?_ " he asked when his mouth was clear enough.

"I'm still wondering how you piss."

The banter was easy, almost comforting. Tony swallowed another mouthful and smirked. "Do you _really_ want to know?"

"No, probably not." Rhodey closed his eyes again. "How much longer can you stay suited up anyway?"

"Whaddya want to know for?" Tony eyed the second sandwich suspiciously, but picking out the watery tomato seemed like too much effort with only one bare hand.

Rhodey snorted. "The only reason Donovan hasn't tried to arrest you is because I promised to keep an eye on you every second you're on the ground. So either you let me drive your armored ass home when it's time, or you let me know you're leaving so I can follow."

Tony regarded his friend. "Sorry about that," he said eventually, grudging but sincere.

Rhodey shrugged without opening his eyes. "Can't say as I wouldn't have done the same thing under the same circumstances. But stay away from him, okay? I don't want to have to arm-wrestle him about who out-ranks who."

"Yeah." Tony scarfed the last of his food and glanced back over his shoulder. Donovan was nowhere to be seen, and there was no one at the snack tables. "I'm going to go get some more coffee."

He filled a cup and drank it down, then refilled it and sipped, feeling the weight of his armor despite the technology that bore it for him. The caffeine and food were replenishing his energy, but he was still appallingly tired. The world seemed unmanageably huge, when Pepper was lost somewhere out in it.

_I can fly halfway around the world by the seat of my pants and blow up a truck with a flick of my hand, but I can't find_ _**her.** _

What good were genius, money, or power, when none of them applied to the problem at hand?

_Come on, Pepper, give me a sign. Where are you?_

He crushed the cup and tossed it, and slipped his gauntlet back on. Out of the corner of his eye Tony saw a figure approaching--a slender young woman with a notebook in her hand.

A reporter.

Tony flipped down his visor and stalked away.

* * *

Virginia woke as dawn was just starting to lighten the sky. She was stiff with chill and felt unpleasantly grubby, but it was good to see the forest starting to come into focus around her, and she sat up with a groan and a shiver, shedding damp leaves.

She had spent a restless night, never slipping very far into sleep; each nearby sound would start her awake, wondering what might be lurking in the dark. Intellectually she knew that there were very few animals out there that would come anywhere near her, let alone threaten her, but logic held less sway once the sun went down.

But nothing had joined her in the leaf hollow, and Virginia stood up slowly and stretched. All her muscles hurt, and she felt bruised from head to toe from banging into rocks; the cuts on her feet stung madly, and her stomach was hollow with hunger.

_And I'd kill for coffee, even that sludge they were serving me back there._

Sighing, she relieved her strained bladder next to a bush and went back to gather up her precious possessions, wondering if there were an easier way to carry them. The leather strap left over from her deconstructed purse gave her an idea, and after a lot of work she managed to fashion a more permanent pocket out of the front of her smock, using the strap and some pins from her sewing kit. It was neither elegant nor wonderfully secure, but at least it left her hands free.

Dawn gave way to morning, and Virginia looked around carefully. _What are my choices?_

She could go back into the river, but that really didn't appeal; she didn't want to spend another day in the water. _I could try to go downstream along the shore, but..._

It was really too rough; in many places the brush and trees came right down to the water, and she would have to detour around them. Progress would be slow.

"I guess I'll have to follow the ridge," she said out loud, and coughed to clear her dry throat. It seemed to parallel the river, at least at the moment, and downstream did seem the most logical direction. Going back the way she'd come was certainly not the best choice.

Reluctantly she slithered back down the hill for another cautious drink. She swallowed just enough to take the edge of her thirst and wondered sourly how long it took for a water-borne illness to manifest.

Regaining the ridge at least warmed her up somewhat. She set off doggedly, slipping slightly with each step and sardonically aware of the irony of someone who could run in _stilettos_ so hobbled by her footgear.

_It's better than bare, Virginia, so don't complain._

By her best estimate, it took her over an hour to walk a mile. She kept her eyes open for any sign of human life, but aside from a soda can that was old enough to have had a ring pull-tab, she found nothing.

She had to sit down to rest at the end of that mile. Her entire body hurt from walking so awkwardly, and her hunger was starting to make her dizzy. She leaned back against a handy tree and looked upward, staring through the needles and leaves above her to the blue sky.

_Standard wisdom when lost is to stay put so that you can be found more easily. But I don't even know if anyone's looking for me. Anyone who's not trying to kill me, that is._

That wasn't quite true; she was sure Tony was searching for her, by this point, or at least harassing the police into searching. But she didn't know if he had any idea where to even start.

And either way, she didn't relish holding still and letting her pursuers find her.

Eventually Virginia forced herself back to her sore feet and resumed plodding. The river was still nearby, she could hear it, but the ridge had been leading her away from it and she could no longer see it through the trees.

The trail appeared so gradually that it took her some time to realize it was there, but eventually she noticed that the ground under her feet was free of larger plant life. The path was narrow but relatively straight, and she lifted her head and pushed herself a little faster. There was no way to tell if the trail was made by humans or animals, but--

It ended abruptly in a small clearing that housed a bright green dome tent and a fire-scored ring of stones. Hope and relief made Virginia's heart sing, and she sucked in a breath. _"Hello?"_

There was no answer. She stepped closer to the tent, and realized that despite its color it was battered and sagging, at least one line pulled loose. The fire circle was full of wind-blown leaves and the scratched cooler sitting on the far side of the tent was dirty.

Disappointment hit her so hard that she had to sit down again. _It's abandoned._

She swallowed back tears of frustration and rested, letting her aching legs relax somewhat, but then climbed back to her feet. "Signs of civilization," she muttered. She had to be within walking distance of a road.

Curious beyond her disappointment, she bent to look in the front door of the tent. The mesh bug screen was zipped up but the door flap itself was not, and she braced herself in case the tent's owner was in fact still there, but there was no corpse within--just a few bundles and a sleeping bag.

She wondered suddenly if there was any food.

She wasn't about to open the cooler, but she unzipped the mesh and entered the tent cautiously. Wind and dirt had obviously made their way into the front of the tent at some point, but it didn't look as though any animals had followed suit, and the sleeping bag was dusty but undisturbed.

Feeling guilty but resolute, Virginia started investigating the bundles. Clean clothes in one bag--men's clothes; dirty clothes in another; and the third--

_Jackpot._

Power bars, beef jerky, nuts, dried fruit, candy, all sealed in plastic bags. The mere sight made her mouth water, and she unzipped the nearest bag and dumped the power bars into her lap, barely remembering to check the expiration date. Unwrapping a bar, she made herself eat it slowly rather than finishing it off in three bites the way her stomach demanded.

As she ate, she kept investigating. A daypack propped against the tent wall turned out to hold toiletries and a six-pack of bottled water, and that last was almost as precious as the food. She twisted the cap off one and drank, slowly and savoringly. It was warm and tasted of plastic, and it was _wonderful._

_I feel like Goldilocks._

After the bar and some fruit, she stripped off her makeshift shoes and stretched out on top of the sleeping bag. It smelled musty, but it was dry and softer than the ground, and she closed her eyes.

_There's got to be some way to find out whose tent this is..._

When she woke, Virginia felt much better, if still sore. She didn't think she'd slept more than a couple of hours, but the food had worked its magic, and her head was clearer.

She ate another bar and some of the jerky and drank another bottle of water, then went through the tent's contents more carefully. There was no wallet or identification, nothing at all that could be used to find out who had left his campsite behind. She sincerely hoped that the owner was not lying dead somewhere in the woods. _Maybe he had an emergency and had to leave in a hurry._

Under the daypack, however, she found a bonus--a pair of sneakers, well-worn but definitely useable. They were too large, of course, but the bundle of clean clothing included some thick socks.

It felt weird dressing in what were essentially stolen clothes, but practicality trumped propriety. The jeans were actually long enough, if too large around the waist, and the t-shirt was baggy but clean. Virginia wished she'd snatched up her pen before she'd fled captivity; without it there was no way to leave a note.

_Though it doesn't look like he's coming back._

She drew the line at taking the man's toothbrush, however; going a few days without brushing her teeth wouldn't kill her. She loaded the daypack with the remaining water and the food as well as her own possessions, though after a moment's thought she left her trash behind.

She debated over the sleeping bag, but in the end decided not to take it; it was old-fashioned and bulky, and she couldn't figure out how to carry it so that it didn't get in her way. Stepping out of the tent, she zipped the mesh closed again, leaving it the way she'd found it.

The trail that had led her to the campsite seemed to continue on further. She settled the pack on her shoulders and set off, glancing back once at the spot of brighter green among the more natural shades.

_Thank you, whoever you are._

* * *

Tony woke with a start. For an instant he thought someone had spoken, but his bedroom was silent, filled with the cool light of dawn. He sat up.

"Jarvis. What time is it?"

"It is six-thirty-two a.m. The weather is--"

"Skip the weather. When are the SAR teams going back out?"

"Approximately twenty-eight minutes from now. Colonel Rhodes wishes to speak with you at your earliest convenience."

"I bet." Tony slid out of bed and rubbed at his aching shoulder. Doing an aerial search wasn't as physically demanding as an actual fight, but it did mean long hours holding himself in basically one position. Getting only a few hours of sleep didn't help; he'd spent half the night after their return to the mansion struggling to come up with a better search algorithm, without success.

Tony didn't bother shaving and only pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt; he would soon be changing into a fresh suit liner anyway. But the house was quiet as he made his way to the kitchen.

Rhodey was making a huge pan of huevos rancheros at the stove, barefoot and dressed only in his boxers. Tony scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Flashing the feds, are we?"

"They're gone," Rhodey said, peering down at his pan. His eyes were dark-ringed; he'd gotten little more sleep than Tony, the past couple of days. "Packed up and left just after you crashed."

That made sense. Pepper's abduction had been solved; her whereabouts now fell under a different heading. Rhodey poked at the skillet's contents with a spatula. "Donovan's team is still heading the search, though. Apparently they've run this kind of thing before."

"Do those people actually ever do what's in their job description?" Tony headed for the coffee machine. He wanted to get moving as soon as possible, but his stomach was trying to devour his backbone and he knew he needed to eat. "Jarvis, I want to set up food for the SAR teams up at the search point. Use whoever caters the Stark Industries conferences and don't skimp."

"Very well." Jarvis paused. "Shall I go through Cedric?"

Tony closed his eyes for a moment. "Yeah, do that."

Jarvis was very flexible, but some things were beyond him, either in terms of programming or of legality. Normally the task was just the sort of thing Pepper would handle, and the fact that she wasn't there to do it was a prod in an open wound.

But while her assistant Cedric wasn't used to interacting with Jarvis, he was almost as efficient as Pepper herself and would no doubt cope.

"Maybe I should hire some more people to search," Tony said, half to himself, and cradled the mug in his hands, grateful for the warmth.

"Don't think so. Donovan said that they have a good number now." Rhodey turned off the burner. "Grab some plates, will you?"

They ate quickly and silently; Rhodey made good breakfasts, but neither of them had time to savor the food. As soon as they were done, the two men rose to change, leaving the dishes where they sat.

Tony was halfway back to the expanding search area, the landscape flowing by beneath his suit and Rhodey long since left behind to follow, when Jarvis spoke. "Sir, there are reports of Stark Industries weapons being used by terrorists near Farkar."

It was the first time Tony had received such news and _not_ wanted to deal with it. Afghanistan was a long flight away and he didn't want to leave the search until Pepper had been found.

"I never thought I'd say this, but can it wait?" he muttered.

"Regrettably, no," Jarvis replied. "It appears that the terrorists are using human shields."

Tony let out a long breath, his heart aching more than his body. "Who taught you to use military jargon? All right, get me Rhodey."

"What's up?" the colonel asked as soon as Jarvis made the connection. "I lost sight of you five minutes ago, but--"

"There's a situation in Afghanistan," Tony broke in, slowing his forward progress to a hover far above the ground. "They have hostages."

"Damn." Tony couldn't actually see Rhodey's face, but he could picture the sympathy hinted at in the one explosive word. "You'd better go, then."

He knew that, but... "I don't want to," Tony admitted lowly. "Not until she's safe."

"She'll understand," Rhodey said, his voice equally soft. "This _is_ Pepper, man. If there's hostages--she'd be pissed if you didn't."

Rhodey was right. Pepper might have started out upset with Tony for putting himself in harm's way, but she had quickly come to understand his thinking, and while Tony suspected she had never quite reconciled to his taking risks, she did care about the people he saved.

And she would definitely demand that he put hostages first.

Tony swallowed. "Don't let them stop looking."

"Never," Rhodey replied, softer yet. "Now get going."

The connection clicked off, and Tony clenched his jaw. "Let's go, Jarvis."

It felt like a betrayal.

* * *

Virginia half-expected the path to peter out again, but instead it kept going, a narrow trail that went up and down hills and meandered gently back and forth. She didn't always know _why_ it bent into curves, but it was still easier than shoving through brush, so she stuck to it. _Sooner or later it has to come to a road or something._

_I hope._

She nibbled on her purloined supplies as she walked, trying to gradually make up for a day without. She didn't want to run out of food too soon, but it was a trade-off--she had to feed herself if she wanted to keep going at a decent pace.

"I wish I knew where I am," she muttered to a bluejay that eyed her snack assessingly. "For all I know I'm heading _away_ from civilization." But she had the trail, and that at least was something.

The roar of a jet had her stopping around noon and craning her head to peer through the leaves above. She just made out the glint of a plane far overhead, a silver cross pulling its sound behind it as if on a long tow, and found herself grinning foolishly at this sign of humanity, as far away as it was. She kept walking in a better frame of mind than she'd had in three days.

The food and the better shoes, and the path to follow, gave Virginia more time to think beyond the immediate. Her good humor ebbed a bit at the recollection that there were probably several people frantic by now at her disappearance.

_Not to mention the mess I'm going to find when I get back. I doubt Tony has made_ _**any** _ _of his appointments--and I don't even have my BlackBerry any more--_

Well, as soon as she reached a phone, she would call. "Happy, you'd better be okay," she sighed, trying to comb her ragged hair back out of her eyes. "If Tony hasn't been taking care of you--"

But she couldn't really imagine her boss _not_ doing so. Tony was oblivious a good part of the time, but when matters were brought to his attention he did the right thing, in spades. The man was insanely generous, and Virginia knew that if Happy had survived his encounter with her kidnappers Tony would look after him.

 _Tony._ She could just imagine how he'd feel about this whole fiasco. Furious, no doubt; and she was willing to add _frightened_ to that. After all, she knew Tony's primary motivation in going after Stane with an inadequate chest piece and no recovery time. Rhodey had made sure of that.

Tony _was_ protective. There had been a stalker a few years back, some poor woman obsessed with him, and she'd made threats against Virginia, perceiving her as something more than an employee. Tony had hired two bodyguards for her and brooked no argument until the woman had been arrested.

 _Not to mention checking up on me about six times a day._ Irritating, but endearing.

She wondered abruptly how he would manage if she didn't make it back. Not that she expected she wouldn't, but-- _I'm not out of the woods yet,_ she thought, and snickered at the pun.

But the image of him alone in that enormous house made her throat ache.

Excellent personal assistants weren't easy to find, but they weren't impossible either, not at the salary Tony could offer. But a new PA wouldn't know all his little quirks, the fact that he was allergic to bananas, the vigil he held on the anniversary of his parents' deaths, the reason Obadiah Stane was a forbidden subject.

They wouldn't know when to bully him into eating, and when to let him alone, though Virginia supposed they could learn. They wouldn't know _Tony_ \--not the way he needed to be known.

He'd told her once that he didn't have anyone but her. Which wasn't true--there was always Rhodey--but she'd understood what he meant. Jim Rhodes' loyalty was to his nation before his friend; that was the nature of the oaths he'd sworn. Virginia's loyalty was solely to Tony.

It could be argued that it was paid for, but she knew--and knew Tony had realized too--that it went deeper than that.

 _When I took this position I never planned on ending up this way._ She didn't have words to define their relationship--not just a job but an unspoken sort of friendship, laced with those looks he gave her sometimes that made her flush the way his innuendo never did. It was a living thing, delicate and sometimes, she thought, dangerous.

And changing, in ways she couldn't define either but that often alarmed her.

Virginia wished for a watch to monitor her slow progress more precisely. She had to stop and rest every so often; her stamina was low after the recent stresses, and anyway she wasn't used to walking all day at a constant pace. _Hell, I'd settle for a pedometer. At least I'd know how far I've come._

By afternoon, she realized too, her new shoes were giving her blisters. She sighed, adjusted the thick socks, and kept going, reminding her stinging toes that the sneakers were much, _much_ better than her previous footgear.

It was while she was staring down at her feet that she realized that the trail had widened. She looked up, and halted in surprise.

Some fifteen yards ahead, the trees thinned and parted, framing a parking lot.

It was small and empty, but that didn't stem the surge of joy. _I have never been so happy to see asphalt in my life._ She hurried forward, scanning the edges of the lot for some sign as to her location.

Aside from a couple of handicapped-parking signs, there were no labels. Disappointed but not daunted, she crossed the lot in a beeline for the entrance.

It was a simple two-lane road, with a double yellow stripe down the center, and Virginia bit her lip as she considered which way to go. The view was the same in both directions--slight curves vanishing into the pines, with nothing more than a speed-limit sign in sight.

But the road to her right sloped downward. She hitched her pack a bit higher and turned that way, on the mostly-spurious grounds that Malibu, or at least the coast, had to be _downhill_ somewhere. _It's not like I can stay here, after all._ It could be days before someone came by.

The smooth road was a little easier on her poor feet. She stayed on the narrow shoulder--such as it was--knowing how fast some people tended to drive on lonely roads, and settled into a steady pace.

The lowering sun was getting in her eyes by the time she found the picnic area. She considered the eyestrain a good sign despite its annoyance; it meant she was headed west. But it also meant she had to keep her face down, and she almost missed seeing the gravel turnoff on the other side of the road.

Her legs ached too much to run across the road, and she was practically limping thanks to the blisters, but Virginia picked up speed as she crossed. Not a single car had driven past since she'd found the road, but nonetheless she hoped desperately that there was someone--anyone--there.

But the handful of picnic tables were all deserted, their crude barbecue grills standing cold and empty. She sighed and sat down at one, shrugging off her pack and dumping it on the table to roll her shoulders and take out the kinks from the bag's weight. _Dammit._

She drank some of her carefully hoarded water and looked around the area from her seat. It wasn't just picnic tables; there was a small brick building not far away, clearly a restroom. _Good, hopefully I can get some more water--and wash up._ She felt grubby and sticky despite her new clothes, and the faint odor of river rising from her skin wasn't helping.

When she felt a bit more rested Virginia stood, picked up her bag, and went to investigate. The restrooms were about what she expected--utilitarian and reeking of disinfectant, and as clean as one could reasonably expect. She made use of the facilities with relief.

The image that confronted her in the mirror above the sink made her grimace back at it. Her face was red with sunburn and her hair was tangled as well as ragged; the too-big shirt made her look as though she were playing dress-up. She stuck her tongue out at the woman reflected back at her and scrubbed her face and hands, then cupped up handful after handful of water, drinking until her thirst was utterly sated.

When she reemerged, she looked thoughtfully at the reddening sun. _It'll be dark soon._

The decision was easy to make, and fortunately the restrooms had lighting. Virginia went back inside the women's side and stripped off shoes and socks, shivering as the cold floor met her sore toes. She pulled the scrub top from her pack and used it as a makeshift sponge to bathe her feet, wincing over the blisters, and then eyed the sink uncertainly.

It was one thing, after all, to sit half-naked on a rock in the middle of a wilderness river. It was another to bathe in a public facility that anyone might enter. _And I wish they would._

In the end, though, the desire for cleanliness won out over caution. She sponge-bathed all over, reasoning that she would hear a car's engine outside should one arrive, and regretfully decided not to wash the socks on the grounds that they were too thick to dry by morning.

"Now what?" She pulled her clothes back on and contemplated herself in the mirror again. "I would give one of Tony's outrageous bonuses for a clean toothbrush right now."

She ate a bit more, and went to look outside again. Night had fallen while she bathed, and Virginia didn't feel like plunging out into the dark to find someplace to sleep. The restroom lacked anything as solid as a door, but there was at least a roof.

_Here's hoping the wildlife stays outside._

There wasn't a lot of choice in the restroom, but she finally selected what seemed to be the cleanest corner and settled down into it. The floor was hard and cold, and even with the bottles removed her pack made a poor pillow.

_But it's better than a hole full of leaves._

Virginia wrapped the scrub pants around her shoulders in lieu of a blanket, tried to find the most comfortable position, and closed her eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

It was past midnight by the time he got home. Tony let the 'bots strip his armor away and trudged to the garage shower, weary to the bone and bitterly aware of the fact that no one had called him to tell him Pepper had been found.

He would have preferred to fly straight back out to the search base camp, but no one would be looking in the dark, and the long score up the back of his armor--and the accompanying damage to its stability--had to be dealt with before he could go out again.

 _You barely made it home in one piece and you know it,_ he told himself as he turned the water on as hot as he could stand. _Gotta do something about the stress points on the leg pieces..._

It had been something of a freak accident--an explosion had smacked him with a steel girder at just the right angle and force to actually do more than scratch the paint--but the fact remained that there were probably several hours of repair work ahead, not to mention redesign.

 _The upgrades can wait._ Tony tapped the little touchscreen he'd installed in the shower and used its virtual keyboard to instruct Jarvis to start repairs.

At least the mission had been fairly successful. There had been a minimum of civilian casualties, and none of them children, and there had even been a couple of adults practical enough to take charge of their fellow hostages, which saved Tony from having to try to communicate with them himself or finding someone in authority to handle them. Jarvis did his best to translate, but dialect and idiom were always tricky prospects.

When he was clean, Tony toweled off and dressed in a pair of old shorts and one of the sleeveless tees he kept on hand for such occasions, and limped upstairs.

The faint snore coming from the couch alerted him to the fact that his best friend was stretched out on the cushions, sound asleep. Tony regarded him through the dimness with a mixture of exasperation and affection, and finally tiptoed over to scoop up the blanket from the back of the long sofa and drape it over Rhodey's motionless form.

 _He's got to be almost as worried as I am._ Pepper was Rhodey's friend too; Tony always liked to watch them tease each other and laugh at shared jokes, even when said joke was on _him._

_I'm a damned lucky bastard to have them both._

Tony moved silently away and went to find something to eat.

In the end he had to take a bottle to bed with him to be able to sleep. Tony sipped slowly, staring blankly at the windows on the far side of the room, all dark with night.

He hadn't quite had the heart to wake Rhodey, and anyway Tony knew that the news he most desired wasn't there to be heard. So he drank Scotch and waited for his body to give into sleep, and wondered bleakly what sort of bed Pepper had out in the darkness.

If any.

His sleep was uneasy, and Tony searched for her in his dreams as well, wandering around a forest inexplicably full of people, then returning to the base camp only to be told that Pepper had returned hours before, and had just left again. As dreams often went, Tony pursued his goal but never quite caught up to her, constantly diverted by distractions and problems.

Rhodey's hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake, was actually a relief. The sky was barely lightening, but Tony hadn't shut the lamps off the night before and the room was golden with light.

"You said you wanted an early start," Rhodey said as Tony sat up and scrubbed at his face with both hands. "When did you get back?"

"I dunno. Two?" Tony yawned. "Something wrong with my guest rooms?"

Rhodey yawned in turn. "What are you talking about?"

"You always sleep on the couch." Tony slid out of bed and headed for his closet. "I've got how many rooms in this place, and you take over the living room instead..."

"I was waiting for you to get home," Rhodey said, looking unusually scruffy with his need for a shave. "Speaking of which, I gotta run home and change. Can you stay put until I get back?"

"Jarvis? How long until repairs are finished?"

"Estimated time to completion is ninety-three minutes," the AI replied, and Tony pulled on a shirt and stuck his head out of the closet.

"There you go. As soon as the suit's fixed, I'm out of here."

Rhodey narrowed his eyes. "I'll ask later," he said. "Breakfast is your problem today."

"Yeah, yeah." Tony stepped into a fresh pair of jeans and fastened them up. By the time he left the closet, Rhodey was gone, and Tony went to find something to make for breakfast.

Fried egg sandwiches were easy enough, and could be eaten while driving, which meant they were perfect for Rhodey. Tony ate his on the spot, however, taking bites in between gulps of coffee and trying to convince his body that it _wanted_ to be awake.

_Pepper..._

He left Rhodey's share of the food in the kitchen and went downstairs to start working on the upgrades. They would at least keep his mind occupied until the colonel got back.

The day was pretty much a repeat of the previous one; the searchers spread out from the base point, moving faster at first as they passed over ground already covered, then slowing. Progress was slower due to the wider area to cover.

Tony ranged overhead, letting Jarvis do most of the scanning work. He was surprised at just how much wildlife there was; the heat signatures of deer were almost the same as humans, and more than once he dipped down to investigate, only to have a large tan shape bolt out of whatever hiding place it had found and bound frantically away.

There was only a small reassurance in the fact that he'd found no predators larger than the bobcats.

Late in the afternoon, however, the searchers were recalled over the radio frequency kept for them. When no reason was given, Tony frowned at his HUD. "Jarvis? What's up?"

"A group of preadolescent campers has been reported missing in the Sespe Wilderness. All searchers who are not volunteers are being reassigned to the Sespe effort."

Fury hardened Tony's muscles, and he inhaled to curse--and froze as Pepper appeared in his mind's eye, hands on her hips and her most forbidding glare directed straight at him. _"Anthony Stark, don't you_ _ **dare**_ _. They're_ _ **children.**_ _They need help a lot more than I do."_

She was just a figment of his imagination, but she was right. Tony squeezed his eyes shut, said the bad word anyway, and shut off the thermographic scan.

He gave himself twenty seconds to sulk, and then cleared his throat. "Back to base, Jarvis." It was hard to speak loud enough for the microphone to pick him up.

The AI said nothing, which was a mercy. Tony let the world slide past beneath him, and felt his heart clench tighter with every mile.

 _You chose this._ His conscience--so long muffled, until his eyes had been opened--spoke sternly. _You chose to be a superhero, and say so in front of the world._

And a superhero, much as he might rage against the thought, was honor-bound to go help with the new search.

_Pepper, I'll come back, I promise._

_As soon as I can._

The only comfort was the image of her approving smile.

* * *

The skunk woke Virginia just before dawn. She wasn't sure how, since it didn't seem to be making any noise, but she opened her eyes to see the black-and-white shape hesitating at the entrance to the restroom.

For an instant Virginia held still, all the cautionary tales about skunks running through her head, but then she sat up slowly. _I don't want to be trapped in here by that thing._

The skunk sensed _her,_ no doubt of it. The creature raised its head, sniffing busily, and she realized that it must have scented the food she'd eaten for supper; she'd thrown a candy wrapper in the trash can.

"It's all gone," she told the skunk, and stood, unkinking muscles displeased with the hard floor.

The skunk hunched, eyed her for a moment, and then retreated out the door without haste. Virginia let out a long breath, relieved at its decision, and stretched.

By the time she was done using the facilities and filling her water bottles, it was just light enough outside to distinguish shapes. She examined her blisters carefully. _They're better this morning, but I'll bet they'll pop right back up after an hour or two._

Still, there was no helping that. She wished for cotton to cushion them and pulled her socks back on, lacing up the shoes tightly. Shrugging into her pack, she exited the restroom cautiously, but the skunk had apparently left.

Virginia hesitated as she looked towards the road, wondering if she shouldn't stay put after all. _But it could be days before someone stops here. At least on the road I have a better chance of finding someone._

As long as it wasn't her kidnappers. Well, her stolen clothes made her look like a hiker; perhaps it would let her go unnoticed. She opened a packet of candied pineapple and set off down the road again, nibbling.

The morning rolled slowly away, counted off in steps and rest breaks. Twice Virginia thought she heard someone, or something, in the forest bordering the road, but each time when she halted and listened she could make out nothing. At noon, however, she heard the unmistakable hum of a car engine.

It was coming from behind her. She turned, peering back up the curving road, adrenaline making her pulse quicken. The car came into view quickly, moving at a speed that proved her sense in walking on the shoulder.

Virginia waved her arms frantically and even found herself shouting, but the car--an older-model sedan--zoomed past her without even slowing. She caught a glimpse of the interior, but just enough to know that there was only the driver. As she watched, still waving, the vehicle swept around the next curve and was gone.

She stared after it in open-mouthed disbelief. She had been so focused on finding someone, anyone, that it hadn't actually occurred to her that she might be _ignored._

"Well, _hell._ " Virginia threw up her hands and glared in the direction of the vanished car. "Just _great._ "

There was nothing else to do but keep walking. She did, fuming at the driver, even though she knew her appearance was hardly likely to inspire confidence.

_I've been trying to get out of here for_ _**two days,** _ _and they just zipped by like I wasn't even there..._

It was such a small thing, she knew; sooner or later there would be another car. But it still galled.

It was early afternoon when she reached another gravel turnoff. Virginia hesitated, then decided she couldn't afford to miss the chance that there might be someone at this one. As she trudged down the short driveway, she caught a glimpse of color through the trees, and felt her heart rise again.

It was an SUV, bright red, and beyond it were two dome tents and a clutter of gear. She hurried forward, but as she neared it was clear that whoever was camping in that spot was absent.

 _Still--_ She actually patted the SUV as she passed it. _This one isn't abandoned._ The gear bore smears of dirt, but it was the grubbiness of use.

It seemed a little rude to sit at the picnic table that was part of the campsite--an intrusion into the unknown campers' space--but there wasn't anything else available and she didn't feel like sitting on the ground. Virginia put her pack on the bench next to her and used a handful of water to splash her hot face, then settled in to wait.

It wasn't easy. All the exercise notwithstanding, she was quickly bored, and at the same time she felt antsy, waiting for the campers--whoever they were--to return.

She knew it was irrational to fear that they too had abandoned their site, but she couldn't help the thought. _Tony would laugh at you,_ she scolded herself.

In her imagination he lay down on the bench opposite, one arm beneath his head and one leg crossed over the other knee as he stared up at the trees and sky overhead, smirking. _What, you think Bigfoot ate 'em, Potts? They'll be back._

It made her scoff, because if there was one person _worse_ than her at handling boredom it was Tony Stark. _If he were really here I'd have to hog-tie him to keep him from hot-wiring the SUV or something equally obnoxious._

Sighing, she turned around so she could lean back against the table, and looked up herself. The leaves and branches overhead made a lacy pattern against the bright sky, subtly changing as a high breeze played tag with the trees. Virginia felt a measure of her impatience drain away as she watched; the motion was hypnotic.

Her imaginary Tony persisted behind her, comfortable in the outdoors as he probably would never be in real life, caught in a contemplative moment. Her eyes followed the leaves, but in her mind he spoke again, words that she hadn't put in his mouth.

_I miss you, Pepper._

That made her blink and shake her head, and the vision shattered. Virginia swallowed hard, and told her subconscious it needed to get a hobby.

She was still watching the leaves when voices reached her ears, the high-pitched tones of children shouting to each other. She drew in a breath and straightened, looking around eagerly.

Out of the forest on the opposite side of the campground came two little girls, running ahead of a pair of adults. Virginia's hands met in her lap and, in lieu of a BlackBerry, clasped each other tightly.

The children spotted her at the same time, but where the younger one halted, the older girl bounced forward. "Hi! Who are you? This is our camping spot!"

"Dinah!" her father called, but the girl was too eager to pay attention, instead halting at the end of the table with a huge grin.

"Are you camping too? We've been hiking _all day._ "

Virginia put Dinah's age at about eight. She smiled back at the girl, feeling her eyes prickle at this unqualified acceptance, the first friendly human contact she'd had in days. "I'm kind of camping, yes."

" _Dinah."_ The adults hurried up, the smaller girl in tow, and their stares raked over Virginia suspiciously. "What have we said about talking to strangers?" her father scolded.

"You're right _here,_ " Dinah argued. "And she looks nice."

The parents were her own age, Virginia guessed, both slender if not overly tall. She smiled at them as well. "I'm sorry to, um, intrude on you. I'm...kind of lost."

The woman's face softened as she took in Virginia's appearance, though she didn't let go of her younger daughter's hand. "You look lost," she agreed, cautiously polite.

The man stepped forward to lay hands on Dinah's shoulders. "Are you out here alone?" His expression was mingled suspicion and concern.

Virginia glanced down at her hands, grubby and chapped; she'd run out of lotion the day before. "Yes. I--I was wondering if I could just borrow your cellphone to make a call."

"We didn't bring our phones," the woman said, smiling a little. "When we go on vacation we want to really get away from it all."

"We've been here _five days,_ " Dinah informed her proudly. "Today's our last day, though."

"You're going home tomorrow?" Virginia asked her absently, struggling to mask her disappointment at the lack of communications equipment.

"Tonight, actually," the man said, letting go of Dinah and ruffling her hair fondly. He glanced at his wife, who tightened her lips thoughtfully and then raised both brows. "How long have you been lost?"

"Three days," Virginia sighed. Looking at their expressions, still slightly wary, she made the instinctive decision to keep the details of her circumstances to herself. Her abduction might have made the news, depending on Happy and how Tony had reacted, but these people clearly knew nothing of it, and years of honing her ability to read people told her that claiming to be Iron Man's kidnapped personal assistant would not go over well. "I got lost hiking." Which was fairly close to the truth, after all.

"Well, we're about to start packing up." The man glanced at his wife again. "We could drop you off at the ranger station on the way out."

Virginia's fingers trembled in their tight knot, and she had to blink. "That would be...great. Thank you."

The man smiled suddenly, and held out a hand. "I'm Mike, and this is my wife Trish." Virginia met his hand with hers; he had a firm grip but not a hard one. "You've met Dinah, and the little one is Helena."

"I'm Virginia." She shook hands with an eager Dinah, relief making her dizzy. "And I'm very glad to meet you all."

* * *

She tried to help the Franklins break camp, but Trish gave her a sharply assessing look and then made her sit down again. She dug a bottle of sports drink out of their supply box and set it in front of Virginia. "Here. You're looking a little peaked."

Relief had left Virginia feeling drained, and she didn't argue. She sipped the warm liquid slowly and watched the family as they carried bundles and bags to the SUV and took the tents apart. Even little Helena, who was--as she'd told Virginia shyly--four, trotted back and forth from site to truck, handing items up to her mother.

Dinah and her father wrestled the tents into submission, Dinah chattering non-stop. Virginia had to smile at the girl's energy, undimmed even after a morning out on the trails. _I'll bet Tony was a lot like that as a kid._

She wondered briefly what his parents had been like at home, and how they'd coped. She hadn't met Tony until several years after their deaths, and he rarely spoke of them, so she knew little beyond what was public history.

But she got the feeling that his life with them had been happy, though if pressed she could not have articulated _how_ she knew. Maybe it was just the sense of a kindred spirit, for while Virginia had no family any longer, she'd grown up secure in the knowledge that she was loved.

"Where are you from?" she asked Mike as he paused for a break and a drink himself.

He dropped onto the seat opposite. "Santa Monica. We try to get up here at least a couple of times a year." Mike took a swig of water. "You?"

"Malibu," Virginia said. "I work as a personal assistant."

Mike nodded thoughtfully. "The CEO where I work has one of those. He's got twice the brains of his boss and he needs all of 'em."

She laughed. "I have days like that, yeah. Where do you work?"

She led him to ramble on a bit, avoiding the question of her own employer, and before long Mike was on his feet again, taking apart tent poles. Trish climbed out of the SUV and began handing out sandwiches, managing to include Virginia in her distribution without making it seem as though she were the uninvited guest that she was.

The sandwiches were nothing spectacular--peanut butter and jam on store bread--but to Virginia they tasted _wonderful_.

_Real food. I'm never going to insult Skippy again._

When the last piece was loaded, Mike strapped Helena into her booster seat and climbed in after her, with Dinah on the other side, leaving the front passenger seat for Virginia. The cushion felt oddly soft after days of dirt and rocks--and tile--but she wasn't about to protest.

As the SUV pulled out of its spot, Trish glanced over at Virginia. "The ranger station's at the gate to the park--about five miles down."

Virginia hesitated, then spoke. "I'd like to stop there and make that call, but afterward would--would it be possible for me to ride back to Santa Monica with you? I can pay for gas," she added hastily. Santa Monica was much closer to home than-- Virginia realized she still didn't actually know where she _was._

Trish frowned. "What about your stuff? I'm sure the rangers can help you find it."

Virginia bit her lip. "At this point all I want to do is get home," she confessed, and Trish smiled sympathetically.

"I can understand that." She glanced in the rear-view mirror, and apparently her husband consented, because she nodded. "Sure, we can do that. Is there someone who can give you a lift to Malibu?"

"Yeah." Virginia let out a breath, relieved again. "Thank you."

Trish reached over and patted her arm. "It's not a problem."

Mike activated the overhead DVD system, and the soundtrack to _My Neighbor Totoro_ filled the truck, enthralling the children. Virginia leaned her head back against the headrest, and whether it was exhaustion, days of stress, or simply relief, fell asleep.

* * *

Normally Tony would have enjoyed the search and rescue operation. Good press for Iron Man was always valuable, and there was no denying he got a kick out of actually _being_ a hero, whether in a war-torn country or in his own proverbial backyard.

And, unlike the past frustrating days, the Sespe search proved ridiculously easy. Of course, it was simpler to look for a group of nine people rather than one alone, but it still took so little time that Tony told Jarvis to start a file about converting the suit's thermographic sensors for use by aircraft. The first group of heat signatures Tony zeroed in on was a bunch of campers who were _not_ lost, though they were quite forgiving of the startlement once he explained why he'd fallen out of the sky in their midst.

The second group proved to be a flock of vultures working on a deer carcass, and Tony didn't even have to land. The third signature was the jackpot--seven small hikers and two counselors, one with a broken leg--and it almost made Tony smile to see the glee in the kids' eyes when he appeared.

After that it was a simple matter to alert the other searchers and guide a couple of rescue helicopters in to a nearby clearing. Tony carried the injured man to the aircraft himself, tossing off vaguely polite replies to everyone's exclamations and questions. But it was late in the day before he was able to leave the situation behind.

The base point for Pepper's search still had a few people around--a couple of reporters, and a few people who had volunteered support services for the searchers who were still out looking. It had both surprised and touched Tony when quite a number of Stark Industries employees had turned up to help with the search. Even Happy had put in an appearance.

Donovan's team was still on the job as well, but Tony didn't see any of them as he came in for a landing. He flipped up his visor, heading for the main building. He wanted to talk to Rhodey before he went back out, and Jarvis had told him that the colonel was currently at the base point.

"Anything?" Tony asked as Rhodey loped out.

Rhodes shook his head. His mouth was set in a grim line. "It's like she just vanished into thin air. I actually heard someone talking about alien abduction, if you can believe it."

Tony snorted bitterly. "Doesn't surprise me."

Rhodey sighed. "Maybe she made it to the road after all, and hitched out of here."

"She would have called," Tony countered. "You know she would have called as soon as she could."

Rhodey winced, and Tony knew what he was thinking. _What if she caught a ride with the wrong person?_

He shoved the thought away. "She's alive, Rhodey. I know she is."

"I want to believe that too, but Tony..." Rhodey ran a hand over his scalp. "You have to start preparing yourself for the possibility that she won't be found."

The surge of anger was huge, and Tony crushed it back, raising his chin and meeting his old friend's eyes directly. "I was gone _three months,_ Rhodey. She didn't give up on me, and neither did _you."_ He glared. "Don't you turn your back on her."

Rhodey raised both hands. "I'm not gonna, Tony. Truly." His gaze was serious, and Tony knew he was telling the truth. "But not everybody is going to see it that way. We're not going to be able to keep this many searchers for long."

Tony let out a long breath, the fury ebbing somewhat. "Yeah, I suppose so. I'll look into hiring some professional trackers tomorrow."

"You do that." Rhodey grimaced. "In the meantime, it's getting dark and they're all headed back in."

Tony glanced up at the sky, which was still a clear blue despite the shadows starting to gather under the trees. "I'm going to make one more pass."

If Rhodey argued, Tony didn't hear it. He snapped down his faceplate and walked far enough away to put Rhodey outside blast range, and took off.

He made three. The dogs had found no trace of Pepper anywhere along the road either, and Tony didn't think she'd doubled back to it. No, she'd gotten as far as the stream, and vanished.

Tony wondered, not for the first time, whether the abductors had managed to shoot Pepper after all. Her body could have been carried downstream--

But then he reminded himself that the searchers had long since checked the stream's banks for a corpse. The watercourse was too shallow to truly hide a body, or to float one for long without its getting hung up somewhere.

_She's alive. She has to be._

Finally it was Jarvis who made him quit, scolding him austerely until he returned home. Rhodey followed him faithfully in his truck, but Tony waved him off when they reached the mansion. "Go home," he told his friend over the cell connection. "Sleep in your own bed instead of on my couch. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm too tired to argue," Rhodey admitted. "All right, but no taking off before I get here, you hear me?"

"Do my best," Tony answered, carefully not promising anything. He bid goodbye and flew down into his workshop to let his robots peel him free.

His head ached with fatigue and strain, and the hot shower did nothing to alleviate it. Tony went upstairs, threw himself down on his bed, and tried to sleep.

But Pepper intruded, filling his head with memories. From the first time he'd seen her dimpling smile to the last argument they'd had, she was all he could think of.

He recreated all the most precious moments--her hand on his forehead when he'd last run a fever, her soft-voiced prodding when he was late for something, her trembling smile when he'd walked off the plane back from captivity. Pepper asleep in the corner of the limo, worn out by a long day; Pepper in his kitchen, dancing to the music pouring out of the speakers and unaware that he was watching; Pepper laughing as she chatted with an SI board member old enough to be her father.

Pepper leaning into him, just inches away, a kiss hovering between them that he knew somehow would be sweeter than any he'd ever tasted.

Sleep would not come.

Finally Tony sat up, contemplating the bottle of Scotch, still half-full where it sat on his bedside table.

_That won't help._

The idea that appeared was ridiculous, far too similar to one of his old stunts, something sure to annoy if anyone found out about it. But Tony was beyond caring. Methodically he rose and dressed, and returned to the garage.

The keys were right where he'd left them, tossed into a tangle of wire on one of his workbenches. Tony plucked them free.

"Jarvis," he said to the air, "route any calls concerning Pepper to my cell. Block the rest of 'em."

"Will do, sir," the AI replied quietly as Tony swung himself into the Tesla.

The drive was short. Tony parked in the garage--Jarvis had to beep the gate open for him--and rode up the elevator to the sixth floor. The hall beyond was cool and well-carpeted, even quiet, but he was in no mood to appreciate that. Instead, he paced down to the door numbered 614, and unlocked it.

He'd been to Pepper's apartment once, during his last stalker scare; he'd insisted on seeing it so he could design a better security system. The upside to that was that Tony knew the master code to bypass the alarm, and did so, closing and locking her door behind him.

The hallway was lit, but the rooms beyond were dark; the air was a little stale, undisturbed for too long, but it still carried a hint of her scent, sweet and enticing. Tony walked slowly down the hall, extending his senses to catch every trace of her.

He didn't bother with the light in her bedroom. Tony toed off his sneakers and kicked them aside, then stretched out on the neatly made bed. The comforter was cool at first touch but quickly warmed against his skin, and Tony scrabbled at its top edge until he had pulled it far enough back to work a pillow free.

The pillow definitely smelled of Pepper, a rich and drowsy perfume. Tony tucked it under his head and lay still, curled on his side.

The tears that wetted the cotton were silent, and he was asleep before they dried.


	8. Chapter 8

When she woke, it was dark. Virginia rubbed her eyes, trying to make out where they were, but there were no street lights. It took her a moment to realize that the darkness on the left was the ocean.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Trish said softly. "You must have been really worn out."

Virginia glanced back. It was hard to make anything out, but judging from the lack of noise coming from the back seat, everyone back there was also asleep. "I thought we were going to stop at the ranger station," she said, keeping her voice low.

Trish chuckled. "We did. Their phone line was down, and you were already asleep, so we didn't bother waking you."

Virginia stretched a little, and frowned, feeling guilty. _Damn. I'm sorry, Tony._ She took another look out the window. "Is this Route 1?"

"Yep. We're about ten minutes away from Malibu."

"Oh--" She didn't know what to say. "I thought--"

"Mike and I decided we could just as easily run you home, and save you having to wait for your ride. The girls are out cold and it's not that much further."

It was a hour's round trip, in the dark, and Virginia knew that was no small effort, no matter how Trish made light of it. "I...thank you." She shook her head. "You didn't have to."

Trish shrugged. "I don't know what happened to you out there, and obviously you don't want to talk about it, but it's not a problem." She glanced over at Virginia and then back out the windshield. "One of those pay it forward things, you know?"

Virginia swallowed against the lump in her throat produced by such simple, awkward kindness. "Thank you," she said again, and leaned her head back again.

The dashboard clock read ten-thirty-two p.m. by the time the SUV pulled up in front of Virginia's apartment building. They'd made the rest of the trip in a peaceful silence broken only by Trish's request for Virginia's address, and as she slid from her seat Virginia pulled out thirty dollars of her sun-dried money.

Trish came around the side of the SUV as Mike, awakened, climbed over his smaller daughter to get out; they were switching drivers. Virginia held out the money to Trish. "For the gas."

For an instant, Virginia thought Trish would refuse, but then she took the money. "I should argue, but the economy these days is louder," she murmured with amusement, and Virginia grinned.

"Thank you again," she said. "You saved my life." _Possibly literally._

Mike shrugged cheerfully, smothering a yawn. "Our good deed for the month. You take care, all right? You'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine." She was just minutes away from her own shower, her own _bed._ Not to mention a _phone._ _I have to call Tony--_

"Cool." He shook hands with Virginia once more. Trish didn't offer her hand, but gave Virginia a smile and hoisted herself up into the back seat.

Virginia waved, and turned to the building's front door, fishing out her keycard and unlocking the entrance to step inside. When she turned back, the SUV's doors were closed, but it was still idling--presumably to make sure she got in safely.

She waved once more, and the truck pulled away. Smiling, she headed for the elevators. _I bet they think they'll never know who I really am or what I was doing in the forest._

_Boy, are they going to get a shock._

She knew their names, and with Jarvis' resources finding them would be a snap. Paying it forward notwithstanding, Virginia intended to make her gratitude known in a more tangible fashion.

 _It can wait until tomorrow. I really need to call Tony._ She stepped out of the elevator on her floor and headed down the hall, wondering wryly what it said about her that the first person she needed to reassure was her boss.

_But he's not just my boss, not any more. I'm not sure what_ _**else** _ _he is, but..._

She could have cried at the sight of her apartment, silent and dim as it was. Instead she locked the door behind her and let out a huge sigh, setting down her daypack on the floor and bending down to remove her purloined socks and sneakers.

_I want a shower so bad. But...phone call first._

Gloriously barefooted, Virginia picked up her phone where it lay on her living room desk, only to find the charge had run down after five days out of its base. Sighing, she headed for the bedroom and its extension.

Her sore toes appreciated the plush of the carpet. Virginia padded to her bedside table and turned on the lamp sitting there, shedding a soft light into the room. She reached for the phone--and froze.

The realization that there was someone in her bed, and the recognition that it was, in fact, Tony, were almost simultaneous. She straightened and looked down at him, amusement warring with exasperation and bewilderment and winning.

She was used to him doing the unexpected, if that were possible; and while he could always produce an explanation for his actions if he felt moved to do so, his reasons were often something that a _normal_ person would consider, well, silly. Or outré. Or just plain _strange_.

Tenderness welled up as she regarded him. _What's he doing_ _ **here**_ _? He looks like hell..._

He did. His face was unshaven, and tight with strain despite his unconsciousness; Virginia recognized the drawn look that came from too little sleep and not enough food.

Shaking her head fondly, she sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over to shake his shoulder. "Tony? Tony, wake up now."

He snuffled and opened his eyes, looking up at her. They went from narrow slits to wide, to wider still, until they had to hurt, the stare of a man not believing what he saw. She smiled at him, a little wryly. "I'd ask what you're doing here, but--"

Tony reached out slowly and touched her thigh as if he thought his fingers would pass through her. His palm flattened against the denim, a spot of warmth--

He moved with the speed that could still astonish her at times. Before she could blink, she was enveloped in an embrace so tight she could scarcely breathe, suddenly looking over Tony's shoulder as his weight pressed her back against the headboard and he buried his face against _her_ shoulder. _"Pepper--"_ he gasped.

After an instant of startlement, Virginia hugged him back, because it was clear that, whatever else was going on with him, Tony needed it. As her hands reached his spine he tightened his hold, an odd choked sound drifting up to her ears, and her heart twisted as she realized he was crying.

"It's okay," she murmured uselessly. "Tony, it's all right." His grip was just short of painful and his arc implant was pressing a dent into her chest, but she made no move to free herself. In fact, his embrace was surprisingly comforting, and she shuddered, her throat constricting at this proof that she'd been missed.

His hair was soft against her cheek and chin. Virginia rubbed Tony's back in slow circles, trying to soothe the hard muscles that held her so securely. Gradually they loosened a fraction, enough that she could take a deep breath, and she smiled over his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Tony lifted his head. His lashes were tangled and smeared with moisture, the lids reddened, and his eyes met hers with a look of desperation she'd never seen before, not in him.

And then he leaned in again, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was as desperate as his eyes. She squeaked in surprise, but she had no leverage or room to jerk away.

This wasn't the kiss they'd almost shared on the roof; that had been heat and sex and a sort of eager curiosity. This was anguish and passion and felt like possession and supplication both at once; Tony's lips slid over hers as if he were trying to give her something, and as his scent filled her nose Virginia's ears rang with white noise.

A tide of strange emotion swamped her, something terrifyingly warm and strong that cried out for him. She whimpered, her fingers clenching on the fabric of his shirt, and Tony echoed her, one hand sliding up into her hair in a caress that was almost as frantic as his kiss.

 _What the hell are we doing?_ The thought was almost incoherent, but Virginia shifted and managed to pull back enough to part them. "Tony--"

His breath gusted against her lips, and then he ducked his head, pressing his face against her throat as if he _had_ to touch her skin. His arm was still squeezing her tightly, his other hand slipping from her head to her nape, and she just held him, feeling his mustache scrape her neck and his muscles tremble.

They sat that way for a long time. Slowly Tony relaxed, and Virginia let one hand slide up to stroke his hair, wondering what on earth had gotten into him. She knew Tony cared about her; she'd known that for months.

_I didn't know he felt this strongly._

She felt lost, groping for stability. The Tony she knew was confident at almost every turn and never, ever vulnerable. He could joke and flirt and even be ashamed; but always his heart was, if not hidden, then shielded.

And while she knew he found her attractive-- _that_ had never been in question--and even that he had at one point considered a relationship...

She had never seen him like this.

Virginia just didn't know what to think. Or even _feel._

At last Tony let out a long, long breath, tickling her skin and raising goosebumps up to her ear, and raised his head. "Potts," he said hoarsely, "I am never, _ever_ letting you out of my sight again."

 _That_ she could deal with. Virginia freed one hand to brush his hair off his forehead, and smiled. "That'll make life a little difficult when you have a mission to fly."

He closed his eyes briefly, huffing a faint laugh, but his humor melted quickly. "Are you okay? You're not hurt or...or anything?"

The way his jaw clenched made her hasten to reassure him. "I'm fine. A few bruises and my feet are killing me, but--I'm fine."

Tony released her and sat back on his heels, and she shivered as she let her other arm drop, feeling oddly bereft. But he immediately cupped her face in both hands. "You're sure? Because if--"

"I'm _fine._ " Virginia tried for asperity, but the caress of his thumbs on her reddened cheeks was making her skin tingle. "Tony--is Happy okay?"

His brows went up. "Yeah--yeah, he's fine. Sore head, but he's fine. Damn, I have to call him. I have to call _Rhodey._ And Jarvis--"

"You're babbling," she said fondly, back on more secure ground. "I'll call them."

Tony let her go, and Virginia leaned over for the phone, trying not to react when he stayed where he was--kneeling so close to her that his knees pressed into her thigh. Rhodey's number was speed-dial four, and she heard two and a half rings before he picked up.

"H'lo?" a groggy voice asked, and she grinned.

"Hi, Jimmy."

" _Pepper?"_ A clunk reached her ear, and then muffled swearing, and Virginia snickered. Then Rhodey's voice was clear again. "Pepper, is that you?!"

"You dropped the phone, didn't you?" she said, grinning wider.

On the other end, Rhodey began to laugh helplessly. " _Damn._ It _is_ you! Pepper, are you okay? What the hell _happened?_ "

"I got away." She blinked, trying to figure out how to explain. "It's...kind of a long story."

"I'll just _bet_." Virginia could picture him, shaking his head in elated disbelief. "Seriously, you're okay?"

"I'm fine," she repeated. "A little banged up, but nothing major, I promise."

The phone was plucked from her grasp, and Tony put it to his own ear, raising his brows at her glare. "She is, yeah." He listened for a few seconds. "No, I haven't heard either...just a few minutes ago." His mouth twisted in amusement. "I hear you, yeah."

She folded her arms, but Tony ignored the signal. "Okay. Tomorrow, yeah. Right." He thumbed the off button.

"I was having a conversation, Tony," she said pointedly.

He ignored her, dialing quickly and then raising the phone again. "Hogan," he said after a few seconds, "there's somebody here who wants to talk to you." He held the handset out to her.

Virginia rolled her eyes and took it. "Happy, are you really okay?"

Her conversation with him was equally brief, and she could hear the roughness in Hogan's voice that hinted at some of the same relief Tony was showing. She promised to see him as soon as possible, and smiled softly as he said a hasty and hoarse goodbye. _I think he's crying..._

Sighing, she replaced the phone in its charger. "Who else knows?"

Tony shrugged. "It's all over the media," he said, his own voice still low. "Is there anyone else you need to call?"

She thought about it, but the only person who would be frantic was Jacquie, and her college roommate lived on the East Coast. "It's two a.m. in Boston," she decided. "I'll call her in the morning."

Tony nodded, his eyes never leaving her face. "Are you _sure_ you don't need to go to the hospital or anything?"

The intensity of his gaze took the strength out of her annoyance. "I'm _fine,_ " Virginia told him. "I'm sore all over and I stink and my feet are a mess, but most of that can be fixed with a shower."

Tony frowned slightly, and slipped off the bed to drop to a crouch next to it. She jerked as he picked up her left foot, but he didn't let go, lifting it in gentle fingers to look at it more closely.

"Yeah, that looks painful," he said after a moment, a hint of his usual humor returning. One finger hovered over a blister but didn't quite touch. "I don't think you'll be wearing your usual shoes for a few days."

"Slippers, I think," Virginia agreed. She pulled her foot free of his grasp. "Tony, it's not that I'm not glad to _see_ you, but what are you doing in my apartment?"

He looked up at her, and straightened slowly, shoving his hands in his pockets and managing to resemble a guilty schoolboy despite the goatee. "I, uh, I couldn't sleep at home."

 _Oh._ She had no more idea of what to do with that statement than she did his kiss, because he'd definitely been asleep when she arrived, and what the hell did that mean? _Maybe I'm not the only Goldilocks around here._

"Pepper..." His expression was solemn. "I figured some stuff out while you were gone, and--"

Virginia held up both hands. "Tony, I...I don't...I just got home," she said in a rush as hurt flared in his eyes. "I need to recover a bit before...before you fire me or whatever."

The gentle tease seemed to ease him, and Tony blinked, one corner of his mouth curling up. "Yeah, you're right." He held out a hand, and Virginia put hers in it and let him pull her to her feet. It felt natural, and that was weird, because they hardly ever touched, and even more rarely skin to skin. His hand was warm and strong, and she resisted the urge to hang onto it. "Do you want me to go?"

 _No._ The answer was so swift that she refused to deal with it, or with the ache that had returned to his expression.

" _Tony."_ She shoved him lightly. "I want a shower. I want a salad. I want some _real food._ I want to know I don't have to worry about you for at least a few hours." She raised her brows, daring him to argue. "You get out of my way and get me the food, and after that we can discuss security measures for your limousine."

His smile was slow but genuine, and the sparkle returned to his eyes. "Whatever the lady wants." Before she could duck, he leaned in and brushed a kiss across her cheek, then straightened and stepped away. "How hungry are you?"

"Starving." Virginia went to her dresser to collect some clean clothes. "But I expect to spend at least forty-five minutes in the shower first."

Tony nodded, and walked towards the door, pausing with a hand on the frame. "Pepper--"

She looked up, and that intent gaze was back, making everything else around her fade. "I'm glad you're back safe."

Virginia swallowed. "Me too," she managed.

He nodded again, and left.

She gathered an armful of clothes and went to steam up her bathroom and put aside, as best she could, the puzzle that was Tony Stark.

Just for a little while.

* * *

Tony waited outside the bathroom door until he heard the shower start, and then he slid awkwardly down to sit on the floor for a while. His head was still spinning, trying to cope with Pepper appearing out of nowhere, and it had taken a real effort of will to let her go take her shower by herself.

He still didn't know how she'd managed to get away, or what had happened to her in the meantime, or where she'd gotten clothing that made her look like someone had tried to turn her into a scarecrow, but Tony was willing to wait a bit for those answers.

_She's back. She's safe. She's_ _**back.** _

The words ran through his head in a sort of repeating mantra, amazement and relief and a soaring, bewildered joy. _Pepper, Pepper..._

He laid one palm flat on the door that separated them. Part of him knew she was equally bewildered at his reaction to her, but he couldn't think about that just yet. Not when he was still reeling like this.

 _Food. She wants food._ Finally he pushed himself away from the door and climbed to his feet, and went to see what was in Pepper's freezer. Normally he would have ordered something in, it was easier, but it was past eleven and there wasn't much left open at that hour.

Tony couldn't find enough salad fixings that were still edible, but there was a nice bunch of broccoli in Pepper's vegetable drawer and a steak in her freezer. He turned on the broiler and put the steak in the microwave to defrost, and went about recreating Rhodey's special grilling sauce. Contrary to popular belief, Tony could cook, and fairly well too; he just couldn't be bothered most of the time.

The traditional side for steak was potatoes, but Pepper didn't seem to have any, so he settled for noodles with a little butter and garlic. Putting the meal together kept him occupied, and kept him from fretting too much about what he didn't yet know.

He was still exhausted, but elation was a good counter to that, and there was absolutely no way Tony was going to walk out Pepper's door just yet, no matter how tired he was. _The food will help._

Once the steak was under the broiler, he pulled his phone from his pocket and called the number Donovan had given him. The voice that answered was a man he didn't recognize, but the stammering fanboy babble was quickly cut off and replaced with the tall agent's voice. "Donovan here, Mr. Stark."

"Hey." Tony's usual annoyance with the man was muted by his joy. "Pepper just turned up at her apartment, safe and sound."

There was a moment of silence, and then Tony heard Donovan exhale, weary relief that made Tony feel a little more kindly towards the agent. "That is _excellent_ news."

"Yeah." Tony rubbed his forehead, aware all over again of how tense he'd been. "I don't know how she got here yet, but she seems to be okay."

"I trust you'll make sure that she _is_." Donovan said something that Tony couldn't catch, apparently to someone else near him, and then spoke into his phone again. "We'd like to see her as soon as possible, especially given that one of her attackers is still at large."

"Tomorrow. If she's up to it," Tony replied firmly. "We'll call you."

"Mr. St--" Donovan begain, but Tony cut the connection and redialed to call home. When Jarvis' warm voice answered, Tony couldn't help smiling.

"Pepper just showed up, Jarvis. Cancel that search for trackers and buzz Cedric in the morning."

"Very well." Jarvis wasn't exactly programmed for emotional expression beyond mild sarcasm, but he somehow managed to sound pleased. "I am glad to hear that Ms. Potts has been found."

"You and me both, Jarvis. You and me both." Tony closed the phone and began rinsing the broccoli.

He didn't hear the shower stop, but the sound of the bathroom door opening did reach his ears, and Tony carefully kept himself from going to check on Pepper, instead setting the small table in her breakfast nook. There was orange juice in her fridge, and while he was used to drinking it with alcohol added, Tony poured them each a glass straight without a qualm.

Some minutes later Pepper shuffled into the kitchen, her feet thrust into voluminous fluffy slippers and her bathrobe tossed on over a t-shirt and shorts. Tony took in the bruises on her shins with a wince, but as his gaze traveled upwards it was her hair that somehow struck him hardest, the ragged fringe of it looking so out of place on a woman whose tidiness was practically legendary.

His eyes prickled, and Tony took three steps forward, lifting a hand to gently touch the mangled strands. "Your hair..."

Pepper sniffed ruefully, her expression mingling outrage and humor. "Yeah, that was...not good." She shrugged. "Could have been worse, though."

Tony felt a muscle in his jaw twitch at the suggestion, and stepped back. "Dinner's ready."

Pepper surveyed the table. Tony had rummaged a little while the food was cooking, and had managed to locate a tablecloth and a tall vase. Lacking any actual flowers, he'd folded one out of a coffee filter and given it a long pasta stem, and it nodded over the rim of the vase like a piece of modern art.

The sight of her dimples appearing eased his heart. "I don't know how you always manage to find what you're looking for," was all Pepper said, but she slid onto the bench seat with alacrity. "It smells great."

Watching her eat what he'd prepared made Tony feel...contented. It was a new sensation, but a good one; she was clearly hungry.

It didn't go unnoticed, though. Eventually Pepper waved a forkful of broccoli at him. "You're making me nervous, Tony. Eat."

"Sorry." Though he wasn't, really. Tony sliced into his steak and tried to keep his stares short.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" She touched the paper flower gently. "I didn't know you knew any origami."

"I picked up a few things." He'd mostly used it to attract female attention in boring college classes, actually. "But the guy who taught me to do that--I never did hear his name."

Pepper arched a brow, and scooped up some linguine. "That sounds like a story."

Tony shrugged. "Not much of one. We were at the same blackjack table at something like five o'clock in the morning, and the place was practically deserted...I think it was Christmas. Anyway, we got to talking, and went to grab coffee at some diner afterwards, and we were both really punchy from lack of sleep." He smiled a little at the memory. "He talked the waitress into giving him a coffee filter and demonstrated."

Pepper laughed. "You know, one of the things I admire about you is that you're never snobbish."

"Only when people are boring." Tony sipped his orange juice. Pepper looked better than she had when he'd woken. She was more relaxed, and while she hadn't been pale, exactly, the food was adding a vitality to her face that had been lacking before. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Yeah--you didn't pay them, did you?" Pepper set down her fork and sat up straight.

Tony blinked. "No. They--Pepper, they abducted you by mistake."

She squinted at him. "What?"

He turned up both hands. "They thought they were kidnapping Sylvia Pointreaux. She has red hair and takes that route to work, and she has pretty much the same limo."

Pepper stared at him, then dropped her face into her hands. "It was a _mistake?_ " she said, muffled. "All that for a _mistake?_ "

"It looks like it." Tony fidgeted, worried. "Pepper, believe me, I would have paid whatever they demanded to get you back, but I never got the _chance_."

She shook her head, and started to laugh. The sound had more than a touch of hysteria, and Tony slipped out of his seat and went to crouch beside her, laying a hand on her leg. "Pepper?"

She kept laughing, shoulders shaking. "I can't believe this," she gasped. "The river, that room--my _hair--_ "

"It'll grow back," Tony said, fumbling for some way to soothe her. He reached up to stroke her head, feeling the strands slippery and damp under his fingers. "It's okay--"

"It's _not_ okay!" Pepper dropped her hands, eyes flashing and face flushed beyond her sunburn. "They put me through that for _what_ , for--they couldn't even get it _right?"_

The flush was rage, Tony realized. "I thought they were going to _kill_ me. All that time, I never knew what would happen when the door opened, and--oh hell--"

She shoved at the table, pushing it away, and Tony scrambled backwards as Pepper rose and half-ran out of the nook. Getting to his feet, he followed, more and more concerned.

She didn't flee; instead, she paced around the kitchen, swearing with the eloquence she only displayed on rare occasions. Tony leaned against the wall and watched her move, wanting to help but having no idea what he could do. _Letting her get it out may be the best thing--_

Finally Pepper ran out of invective. "Please tell me you at least _caught_ them." Her fists were clenched and her breathing was rapid.

"One of them. One got away. The other was dead when we got there."

"Oh." That seemed to deflate her a bit. "What..."

"He'd been shot in the head. I don't know which of the other two did it."

Pepper grimaced. "What did he look like?"

Tony thought back; he hadn't been paying much attention at the time. "Tall, skinny...motorcycle boots, I think."

"Oh," she repeated, and her shoulders slumped, the anger fading. "It sounds like...I called him Two, in my head. They didn't let me see their faces."

Tony kept a strict rein on his voice. "Did he hurt you?"

"No." Pepper actually smiled, a sad slight curve. "He was...he was pretty nice to me, actually." She shrugged. "For a kidnapper, anyway."

She reached for the edges of her robe and pulled them around her as if she were cold. "Damn them," she added softly.

"Yeah." Tony pushed away from the wall. "Come on, Potts. Finish your dinner."

He coaxed her back to the table, and when she just stared at her plate he picked up her fork and wound it with linguine before holding it out to her. "You're going to make me think you don't like my cooking."

Pepper pursed her lips, eyes crinkling, and took the fork. "I sense your mother's influence." She popped the food in her mouth, and Tony sat back, satisfied.

"Yeah. When I'd beg her to bake cookies, she'd make me help her, and pretty soon I was hooked. Haven't done it as much since she died, though." He shrugged. "It's not much fun just cooking for myself. And these days I don't have the time anyway."

Pepper nodded, spearing a piece of steak and chasing a smear of sauce with it. "Well, you are good at it. Cooking, I mean."

"If I'm going to do something, I like to do it well." Tony smirked at her, and Pepper rolled her eyes, clearly hiding a smile at the familiar innuendo.

He watched as she ate what was left on her plate, absently spiraling noodles around his own fork one by one. When she was finished, Pepper laid down her napkin with a sigh. "I feel better."

"Good." Tony reached for her plate, only to have her slap at his hand.

"Nothing doing. You cooked, I'll clean up. Let me just go brush my teeth first."

Tony gave her a cockeyed look as she rose. "I didn't know you were so militant about dental health, Potts."

Pepper snickered. "Tony, I went for _three days_ without a toothbrush. I'm going to be savoring the opportunity to brush for a while."

She left in a swirl of bathrobe, and Tony smirked again and went on clearing the table despite her order. It was just two minutes' work to load the dishwasher, and by the time Pepper returned he was forearm-deep in suds, scrubbing the broiler pan.

Pepper sighed theatrically. "Don't tell me, your mother made you clean up after yourself too." She lifted a dishtowel from its hook and took the pasta pot from the drying rack.

"She tried, but usually Dolores had the place sparkling before she could turn around." At Pepper's look of inquiry, he clarified. "She was our housekeeper. Took her job very seriously."

"Ah." Pepper nodded, and polished the pot dry before putting it away. Tony rinsed the broiler pan and left it to drip in the drainer, then took the towel from her.

"I need to know what happened, Pepper."

She snatched the towel back with a look of exasperation, but only hung it up again. "Yes, well, so do I."

Tony blew out a breath. "Come on then, and I'll tell you."

They settled in the living room on either end of Pepper's couch. Tony was a little worried about her mood swings, but he wasn't about to bring them up. _If nothing else, she's entitled._

"Do you want to start, or should I?" he asked softly as Pepper pulled her legs up and huddled into her bathrobe.

She shrugged unhappily. "I might as well."

Tony laid his arm on the back of the couch and leaned against the armrest, disposing himself to listen. Pepper's lips twisted. "What did Happy tell you?"

"That he was pulled over by someone masquerading as a motorcycle cop, and he jumped the guy as soon as he tossed in a gas grenade," Tony said. "He took a knock to the head and that was it."

Pepper nodded. "I don't remember much besides that," she said, her voice so quiet he had to strain to hear it. "I woke up in--in a room, I guess, I never actually saw it. They had me blindfolded."

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, and Tony had to lock his muscles to keep from sliding over and gathering her up. "One of them--I called him Number One--told me that if I cooperated they wouldn't hurt me. And eventually they moved me into another room with a bed and a table and chair."

"I saw it," Tony acknowledged, his voice a little hoarse.

"Then you know." A little of the strain ebbed from Pepper's face. "It wasn't bad, really--they fed me and gave me what I asked for, like clean clothes. It was just really, really _boring_."

The light tone she was trying for didn't quite succeed, and Tony could fill in the blanks all too well. Boring, yes, locked in a cell with nothing to do, but also terrifying. "I'm surprised you didn't go crazy without your BlackBerry," he managed, letting one corner of his mouth curl up.

Pepper smiled. "Don't you start. Drat, I'm going to have to get that replaced."

"Actually, I found it, the police have it at the moment. Fingerprints." Tony waved a hand. "I can get you a new one if you want, though, whatever the latest model is."

"Mine will be fine," she said primly. "Ugh, my mailbox has probably crashed and burned at this point..."

"Worry about it tomorrow." _Or maybe next week._ Tony wondered if she would let him put her on medical leave.

"Well. Obviously I didn't have my phone. They took my shoes, too, and my purse, though eventually they let me have that back." Pepper laughed, shaking her head. "Good thing, too."

"Yeah?" Tony raised his brows.

"Yeah, I ended up cannibalizing it for shoes." Pepper shifted, crossing her legs and sitting up a bit. "The scariest part was when they took my hair, I guess."

Tony felt his throat close at the memory of that shining coil. "What happened?"

"They made me put the blindfold on, and they tied my hands, and took me to another room. I had to say something for a recording, and Number Three cut off my ponytail." Her voice was flat and matter-of-fact, obviously concealing some stronger emotion.

The rage was back, and Tony wanted to go find the man with the knife and pulverize him, with suit or without. "Pointreaux got it. And the recording."

Pepper shook her head. "I still can't believe that," she muttered.

"Add him to the list of people to call tomorrow," Tony sighed.

Pepper was silent a moment. "Anyway," she said at last, still flat, "after that I heard them arguing and I knew that there was something...wrong." Her hands tangled together. "So I grabbed my stuff and when Two came in I punched him and ran."

"Good." Tony thought back to that rangy corpse with no regret.

Pepper grimaced. "The only door I knew about was in the back, I guess--that's what it looked like, anyway. I ran--they chased me, but they never got very close, or if they did they were all rotten shots."

Tony nodded tightly. "We tracked you down the hill, but then you just...disappeared."

Pepper giggled, a sound so unexpected he almost flinched. She covered her mouth with one hand. "Sorry. I just--I was swimming across the river, and then it occurred to me, why not just go downstream?"

Tony felt his jaw drop. "You mean, you just swam..." He gestured, wiggling one hand like a fish, and Pepper dropped her arm and grinned.

"Exactly. I knew they'd probably catch me if I went across, especially since I was barefoot, but going downstream I could swim underwater for a bit, and get away faster too." She shrugged. "It would have been easier to go through the rapids with an inner tube or something, but I made it."

He shook his head. "I can't believe we never _thought_ of that. We had people all over the far side looking for you, and we couldn't find a trace."

Pepper sobered. "I'm sorry...I must have gone several miles before I got out of the water, it was afternoon."

Tony leaned forward and gripped her knee briefly. " _Don't apologize._ You're _alive._ " He didn't care if she'd grown _gills._ The water had taken her out of reach of her abductors, and if the price had been the last three days of searching, it was still worth it, because she was whole and well before him.

Pepper smiled at him tremulously. Tony sat back, much as he didn't want to, and tried to look hopeful. "So you went downstream, thereby confounding your pursuers, several dozen trained searchers, and your genius boss--then what?"

"I turned my purse into shoes, kind of." Pepper blew out a breath. "It didn't work very well, but it got me to an abandoned camp the next morning. Yesterday? It feels like a year ago." She rubbed one foot absently. "I didn't know where I was, and I was just moving in case they were still after me. There was a campsite--nobody had been there for weeks, it looked like, but there was some food."

Pepper shook her head. "It saved me, Tony. I hadn't had anything to eat for a day, by then, and I knew I couldn't get much further. There was food, and clothes, and actual shoes. And I have no idea whose place it was."

"We can probably find out, if you want," Tony offered softly.

"Yeah." Pepper paused again, looking thoughtful. "There was a trail, so I followed it until I got to the road, and then I followed _that_ until I got to a rest stop. I spent the night there and found an occupied camp the next day." She smiled again. "It was a family, and they were going to take me to the ranger station but instead they actually drove me home."

Tony decided instantly that he would have to research _them_ too. For helping Pepper, they deserved whatever reward was in his power.

Pepper shrugged. "That's it. I got home and I was going to call you, but you were asleep on my bed. I assume you got the keys out of my desk."

"Pretty much, yeah." Tony regarded her. She had wrapped her arms around herself again and looked chilled. "Are you all right?"

She shrugged again. "I could ask you the same thing."

Tony blinked. She was looking at his hands, and he realized they were tightly fisted where they rested on his thighs, the knuckles white with strain.

"I'm not," he said, startled at his own honesty. "It's been _hell_ without you. Not knowing where you were or if you were okay." He forced his left hand open, laying it palm-up on his leg. "I just--Pepper, I can't--"

He didn't know _what_ to say, how to express himself so she wouldn't draw back. He was so tired, and still so angry, and frightened because she looked so damned _fragile_ \--and he wanted desperately to just _hold_ her until the fear went away--

One of those long-fingered hands covered his own, palm sliding against palm. "You're exhausted," Pepper said in her practical voice. "Have you been getting _any_ sleep?"

Tony looked up and met her eyes, and behind the wry amusement was concern that made his heart lift. "About six hours total."

Pepper sighed. "Come on," she said, and stood without letting go of his hand. Tony rose and followed her obediently, willing to do just about anything as long as it didn't involve leaving her.

The bed was as they'd left it, still made but for the pillow pulled free. Pepper let him go and pushed him down until he was sitting on the mattress. Then she went around to the other side and climbed on herself.

"Do you mind leaving the light on?" she asked, pulling the other pillow out.

Tony shook his head, beyond words as he watched her lie down on her side, her robe wrapped snugly around her. She tucked the pillow under her head and held out her hand again, and Tony lay down facing her, slipping his hand into hers and feeling some of his tension ebb at the touch of her fingers.

Pepper smiled at him, and closed her eyes. "Get some sleep," she told him softly, still in that practical tone.

"Yes ma'am," he whispered back.

He tried to keep his eyes open so he could watch her, but as before, sleep won.


	9. Chapter 9

It was an odd sensation, but not an unpleasant one, to wake with a weight on her stomach. Virginia opened her eyes to the light of morning competing with her bedside lamp, and an arm wrapped around her hips. Tony lay crosswise on her bed, his face pressed into her upper abdomen just below her breasts. He was snuffling quietly, his breath in the slow rhythm of sleep; it was leaving a damp patch on her shirt--her robe had come undone at some point--but she couldn't bring herself to mind, somehow.

For a while she didn't move, trying to process the past day and night. She hadn't slept deeply; every so often she'd woken, as if her brain was trying to make sure she was actually home.

Each time she'd found Tony there, his hand linked with hers, sound asleep in the lamp's low light--mouth slack and the shadows under his eyes gradually fading.

But apparently between her last waking and now, he'd moved. Her mind clearer with the new morning, Virginia found the situation peculiar, because Tony Stark never actually _slept_ with anyone; she knew that. He exhausted his partners and then slipped away, and she had several theories as to why but no certainties. _Not that it's any of my business, really._

She wasn't even sure why she'd let him into her bed the night before, except that he'd been so upset, and she hadn't really wanted to be alone herself. It seemed a decision--a night really--outside of things, beyond their usual parameters.

And while it would be easiest to _return_ to those parameters now, she wasn't sure it was possible. _For one thing, there's got to be a huge amount of aftermath to deal with...do the police even know I'm all right?_

The thought of the work ahead of her made Virginia feel energized. Sure, she was still tired, and sore, and her feet hurt, but she loved her job, and it would be good to get back to it. _I need at least a day off to collect myself, but after that..._

Moving carefully, she gently lifted Tony's arm and scooted back, letting his head ease down to the mattress. He sighed but didn't wake, and she slid off the bed and went to find clean clothes.

Dressed, she made her way to the kitchen. Coffee was a blessing-- _good_ coffee, not the crap she'd been given while in captivity--and it didn't take long to brew a pot. Virginia added creamer and sugar and sipped blissfully, contemplating breakfast. It was almost six-thirty, and normally she'd be getting ready to head out the door, but today was obviously not normal.

_And anyway I can't just leave Tony asleep in my room._

As she drank, she tried to make sense of the night before. Tony's welcoming embrace she could understand; as much as they almost never spoke of it, Virginia knew that she and Tony were closer than their professional relationship required.

_But that kiss--_

That hadn't been lust, or even just getting carried away by the surprise. That had been something she'd never seen in Tony Stark, nor really thought him capable of.

In fact, she wondered if she'd imagined it, or at least imagined the desperation behind it. _Wishful thinking, Virginia?_

" _Pepper?"_ The call came from the direction of her bedroom, and Tony sounded--frantic. She pushed away from the counter she was leaning on and opened her mouth, but before she could speak Tony appeared, eyes wide and his hair a mess.

"Pepper--oh, there you are." He licked his lips and gave her a sheepish smile. "I, uh, you were gone."

"I woke up." She smiled back, letting him close off and pretend he hadn't been upset. "There's coffee if you want some."

But he didn't close off; the mask didn't appear. Tony strode across the kitchen and took her cup, setting it on the counter behind her, then wrapped her in a hug.

Considerably startled, she nevertheless hugged him back again, more out of instinct than anything else. It felt good; _he_ felt good, strong and more than a little warm, and even the hard press of the arc reactor seemed to fit somehow.

Tony sighed deeply, relaxing somewhat, his chin dropping to her shoulder. "Pepper," he said, dreamy and low in her ear.

She let out an amused breath, touched by how much he seemed to be reassured. "This new habit of yours is kind of alarming, Tony. I mean, I like hugs, but it's going to make it hard to get any work done."

He snorted at her tease. "Screw work." Sighing again, he lifted his head enough to meet her eyes, and without warning kissed her again, this time a simple press of his lips on hers. Light and quick, it was over before Virginia had quite realized it had begun.

"I need to talk to you about this," Tony informed her, eyes meeting hers without flinching. "But I'll let you pick the time, as long as it's soon." His arms tightened and then released, and he stepped back. "Do you happen to have a spare toothbrush?"

"Linen closet," she managed, and he nodded and left, leaving her to stare after him in shock.

_Um. That was...unexpected._

Clearly they _did_ have to talk. Which would have been more reassuring if Virginia had any idea of what the hell to actually _say._

Shaking her head, she turned to pick up her cup and start on breakfast. And to try to ignore the small voice in her head that asked what kind of kiss Tony would have given her if he'd already brushed his teeth.

He reappeared as she poured the first waffle onto the iron. Without hesitation Tony began to set the table, and she realized that he had memorized the layout of her kitchen the night before. Virginia watched him out of the corner of her eye, trying to assimilate the fact that her boss was moving around her home, acting...domesticated.

That, too, was not something she had ever expected from him. Even the Tony who had returned from Afghanistan, burning with a new purpose, had shown no signs of such an alteration.

She was good at adapting to abrupt changes, but this one was going to be tricky.

As Tony was drowning his waffles in syrup, he spoke. "I know you need some time off, but I'm going to need you to spend it at my place. One of your kidnappers is still at large, and there's a small chance he might come after you."

"They're not _my_ kidnappers," Virginia muttered, but the mere idea of running into one of them made her feel ill. "That's fine. I was planning on going back with you anyway. I'm going to take a couple of days off, but I need to call Cedric this afternoon and start triaging, and deal with anything that just can't wait. You didn't have any emergencies while I was gone, did you?"

Tony set down the bottle and stared at her. "A _couple_ of _days?_ Pepper, you should take a _month._ "

She shuddered at the idea. "I've been gone almost a week. Things are probably approaching critical mass already--"

His scowl cut her off. "Pepper. You were abducted and subjected to God knows what, and you want to come right back to work like nothing happened?" Tony shook his head. "Forget it."

Stung, she frowned back. "Tony, getting back to work is what I need to do. Not to mention the fact that your life doesn't stop just because I'm not there to handle it."

"It almost did," Tony shot back. "This isn't negotiable. You'll take two weeks minimum, more if the doctor says so."

"I don't need a doctor," Virginia protested, but the implacable expression on Tony's face told her that arguing was useless.

"You'll see a doctor, today. At my place if you'd rather not go out, but today." He drove his fork into the nearest waffle with a bit more force than it needed. "Don't argue with me, Ms. Potts. You know I'm right."

She _wanted_ to argue, so much that it frightened her a little. Virginia bit her tongue and stared down at her plate, anger warring with the sour knowledge that he _was_ right. She wasn't badly hurt, but between the cuts on her feet and the river water, a checkup was a good idea.

Still, the need to get back into her familiar routine was almost as strong, and she drew her fork through a patch of melting butter without really seeing it. "I'll take a week, Tony, and we'll see."

She expected him to argue again, or start sulking, but the warm fingers wrapping around her free wrist instead were downright startling. She looked up to meet his eyes, and was caught by the mixture of worry and anger and something deeper than either, something she couldn't quite name.

It was a long, breathless moment, suspended in time. Before she could focus enough to look away, Tony lifted her hand to his face and pressed another of those quick, light kisses to her pulse point, then let her pull away. "Eat," he told her in a low voice.

Flustered, floored, utterly confused, she did.

* * *

Happy arrived within the hour to drive them both to the mansion. He climbed out as usual to open the limo door, and at the sight of him--black eye still fading but a huge grin splitting his normally dour face--Virginia ran forward the few steps to throw her arms around him.

His return embrace was careful, as if he thought she might break, but she heard his heartbeat running fast, and squeezed him tightly for a moment. "I'm so glad you're okay," she said.

Hogan cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he managed. "I couldn't stop--"

The words choked off, and Virginia leaned back enough to look him in the eye; he was a lot taller when she wasn't wearing heels. "Don't," she said firmly. "I saw what they did to you, Happy. Don't you _dare_ blame yourself."

"Told you," said Tony behind her, cheerful again. He was carrying the small bag that held her things, enough for a night or two.

Hogan sighed, and his arms tightened a fraction. Virginia stretched up to kiss his cheek, and let him go.

Rhodey was waiting for them outside Tony's house, his grin rivaling Happy's, and he swept her up into a much more generous hug. _"Damn,_ you had us scared," he said into her hair, and she giggled and tried to find the ground with her sore toes.

"I was pretty scared too, Jimmy." She savored his hug, his uncomplicated friendship. One of the best things about working for Tony was knowing Jim Rhodes. "It's good to be back."

He set her down gently, and--much the same as Tony had the night before--cupped her face in his hands. "Are you really all right?"

Virginia returned his gaze calmly. "I'm fine. A few bruises and blisters, but I'm okay."

"And she'll be seeing a doctor later," Tony added, watching them both with an expression that she couldn't quite decipher. "Just to make sure."

Virginia said nothing. _A_ _clean bill of health will make it harder for him to try to restrict me._

Rhodey nodded slowly and released her. "Did you guys even let the Feds know?"

She glanced at Tony, who smirked. "Last night," he said. "I had to call them again this morning. They should be here in about--" He glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes."

She sighed. "I'd better get ready, then." And frowned. "Feds?"

Rhodey gave her a shrug. "I called in a favor."

Before she could think about _that_ one, Tony was herding them inside, and she had to pick a room and settle her things. It was closer to thirty minutes before Virginia settled down on the long living room couch with a federal agent two cushions down. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to the police, but she knew the interview would be tedious. Both Tony and Rhodey were hovering, the latter more discreetly by the piano while Tony perched on the end of the sofa nearest her, and she thought briefly about sending them both out.

_No. The fewer times I have to go through this, the better._

Special Agent Donovan was imposingly tall, devastatingly handsome, and perfectly professional. Virginia found him oddly reassuring, though it was clear that there was no love lost between him and Tony, and she wondered wryly just what each had done to put the other's back up. _I can ask Jimmy later._

The agent was patient, taking in her story without much comment but stopping her at times to ask for clarification. She gave him every detail she could remember of One and Three, not that it was much; the quick glance back at the men shooting at her hadn't provided much detail. But her own sharp memory had served her well, and she estimated heights and ages as best she could, sketching out both faces for the detective.

Still, the interview was draining. There was a lot of the past several days that Virginia didn't really _want_ to remember, and the retelling was made no easier by the presence of the two men nearby; neither of them said a word, but she could feel their tension and anger, and it wore on her nerves.

Finally Donovan decided he had enough, and gathered up his notes. "Please get in touch with us at any time if you remember something more, Ms. Potts," he said, handing her a card. "With the remaining man still at large, anything might help find him."

She suppressed a shiver at the thought of the malevolent Three looking for her. The police, and the agents, had decided that he was the one still loose when the recording on the CD didn't match the voice of their captive; while One wasn't saying much yet, the police were fairly certain that the dead man was in fact Two.

She might almost have felt sorry for Two, if it hadn't been pretty clear that he'd been coming to kill her, or at the least escort her to her own execution.

Rhodey escorted Donovan out. Virginia stood, and hugged herself, feeling a little chilled; rather to her surprise, warm hands settled on her shoulders and stroked down her arms, rubbing gently. "You okay?" came Tony's voice from behind her.

"I think so." She turned, and his hands slid down to cup her elbows, rather than falling away as she expected. Tony's expression was so sober that it shook her, but rather than making her nervous, his nearness brought an odd comfort. "But I want..."

"What?" he asked, brows rising. "Anything within my power, Potts, it's yours."

There was the familiar smirk, finally, but she couldn't shake the idea that he was serious. Virginia smiled at him, deliberately turning her thoughts away from the past few days. "I want to freshen up, and then I want some tea."

Did he actually look disappointed? "Tea, right. I'm sure we've got some of that around here somewhere," Tony began, and she cut him gently off.

"I'll only be a few minutes. Plug the kettle in for me, would you?"

His hands tightened, then released. "Sure thing. Doctor's coming soon, just so you know."

She nodded and headed for the nearest bathroom, wondering how long this new phase of Tony's would last, and trying not to remember the feel of his lips on hers.

* * *

Rhodey was in the kitchen when Tony reached it, seated at the table and nursing a cup of coffee. "How is she?" he asked. "She looked pretty stressed."

"Yeah, she is," Tony said, opening cupboards at random and looking for anything tea-shaped. "But I think she'll be okay."

"You should make her see a shrink," Rhodey pointed out.

"Yeah, how much luck do you think I'll have with that?" Tony reached for a top-shelf box, only to discover that it was instant cocoa. "This is Pepper we're talking about."

"True." Rhodey snickered. "What the hell are you doing?"

"She wants tea." Tony opened another cupboard. "I can't find any."

"It's in the pantry." When Tony turned to look at him, Rhodey shrugged. "What? I was looking for the black pepper the other day."

He was right. Tony found several small boxes of tea varieties and carried them all out to dump on the table, then filled the electric kettle and plugged it in.

It was just beginning to boil when Pepper came in, her eyes a little pink but her expression composed. She smiled at them both. "Is it Dr. Phair who's coming, Tony?"

"Yep." He swung a chair away from the table and sat in it backwards, resting his arms on the back. Pepper's physician worked at Queen of the Valley Hospital, and while Tony had offered the woman a large bonus to come out and make a house call, he suspected that it was more concern for Pepper that had motivated Phair to agree.

She nodded and shut off the kettle, whose burble dropped abruptly to silence. Neither man spoke as Pepper chose a box and a mug and dropped the tea bag in, and as she poured the hot water her mouth curved wryly. "I appreciate the concern, guys, but I'm not going to explode."

Tony exchanged glances with Rhodey, both of them slightly sheepish at being caught staring. "Yeah, well, give us a break, Pepper," Rhodey said lightly. "We're just making sure you're really here."

Pepper set the kettle down and chose a seat, and the smell of raspberries curled into the air from her steeping tea. "I'm having a little trouble believing it myself."

Absently Tony stood again and pulled down the box of cocoa to fix himself a drink as well. He wasn't sure why--he couldn't remember the last time he'd had hot chocolate--but he felt the need to do something with his hands, and that would serve.

"I was just talking to Tony," Rhodey went on. "You should probably see a counselor, you know, Pepper."

Tony, pouring hot water, barely kept in a snicker at the diffidence in Rhodey's voice. _The big bad Air Force colonel is scared she'll bite his head off._ And with reason, he had to admit.

"I know," Pepper said tiredly, and Tony felt his jaw drop. "But at the moment it's one too many things to think about, Jimmy."

He looked up. Pepper's shoulders were bowed, and the weariness in her face made him want to scoop her up and bundle her into his bedroom to sleep for a week. Preferably in his arms, but he'd settle for the sleep alone if he thought she would acquiesce.

 _Fat chance. You're lucky she's let you do so much already._ And Tony knew there would be a reckoning soon; he figured that dealing with his sudden advances was another thing on that "too many" list, but closer to the top.

He wasn't about to stop, though. Pushing the limits was what worked for him, and he _did_ have the past night to base hope upon. _After all, she hasn't hit me yet._ Or told him to stop. He crossed metaphorical fingers in hopes that she wouldn't, because he would honor that request--he just didn't _want_ to.

"You're still taking two weeks off," he said, making a mental note to hide her BlackBerry as soon as the police gave it back. "At minimum."

"We've had this discussion." Pepper pointed at Rhodey, who was just opening his mouth. "No double-teaming me. Getting back to work is what I need to do, Tony."

Rhodey subsided, though his expression revealed that he didn't approve. Tony kept his expression relaxed. "We'll let the doctor decide that."

"That does make sense, Pepper," Rhodey added anxiously.

Pepper sighed, and then smiled at Rhodes, serene again. Tony tried to figure out why he was suddenly twitchy. "I'll take it easy, don't worry."

"Yeah, that'll be the day." Rhodey snorted, but reached across the table to pat her hand, and Pepper turned her own upwards to clasp his fingers briefly.

The sudden stab of jealousy had Tony taking a large swallow of cocoa to mask his surprise. _Oh. That's why._ Her smile was the same as the one she'd given Rhodey earlier outside, when he'd held her face in his hands.

 _Careful._ Tony grimaced into his mug, only partly because he'd burned his tongue. He knew for a fact that Pepper was very far from Rhodey's type, and judging from what little he'd seen of Pepper's tastes Rhodey didn't fit hers either. His instincts were in high gear in the aftermath of Pepper's abduction, and Tony knew he would have to be careful not to insult either of his friends with an inappropriate reaction.

Jealousy wasn't exactly a new feeling; he'd experienced it in some form for the last several years, every time he knew Pepper was going out on a date. At first it was just the mild regret of knowing that some other male was escorting _his_ extremely attractive personal assistant; later, it had been sharper and a little angrier, but by then Pepper was one of the few women in Tony's world labeled "off limits", and it had taken Afghanistan to change things.

He'd been dawdling, Tony realized; afraid to try again after Pepper had turned him down flat before his first Iron Man press conference. _Well, that wasn't exactly one of my finer moments anyway._ He'd casually propositioned a hundred women with more grace, and her pointed question had underlined just how clumsy his words had been. He'd put off another attempt out of fear that she would reject him once and for all, figuring that every day he let pass by was one more day to show her that he really had changed.

It was cliché, but Pepper's abduction had shown him how little time he really had.

Pepper was sipping her tea, and Tony found his gaze drawn back to her ragged hair. She'd combed it out that morning, and apparently smoothed it down when she'd freshened up earlier, but there was no disguising the jagged cuts.

"Do you want me to book you a stylist?" Tony asked. "I can have one come here if you like--save you having to wade through the press."

Pepper touched her hair nervously, tucking one side behind her ear. "I suppose that's a good idea. That reminds me, I need to put together a release--"

She made as if to get up, and Tony frowned at her. "Finish your tea. The doctor will be here soon, and Cedric can handle the press."

Pepper hesitated, then sighed. "I guess you're right. Besides, if I'm going to go on camera..." She touched her hair again, a restless gesture.

"Weren't you going to call your friend in Boston?" Tony pointed out. He glanced at his watch. "You should have enough time before Phair gets here."

Pepper brightened. "Yes, I should. Jacquie must be going nuts."

This time when she stood Tony made no move to stop her, and she took her cup and went out. Tony blew out a breath and rubbed his forehead. "Jarvis, do me a favor and get her stylist in here, or mine. The usual incentives."

"Calling now," Jarvis said. Tony sat back down, setting his mug on the table and wishing for a shot of whiskey to add to the cocoa.

"So what the hell _happened?_ " Rhodey asked, freshening his coffee. "Did Pepper call you last night or what? And why didn't _you_ call _me?_ "

He looked amused and slightly hurt at the same time, and Tony rubbed his jaw, wondering how much he could leave out. _Not much._

"She woke me up," he said truthfully. "And at first I couldn't believe it was her."

He'd honestly thought he was dreaming. Not until he _felt_ her, solid and far more real than any imagining, had he realized that she was in fact _there,_ beyond all hope and expectation. He'd _had_ to touch her then, hold on tightly, convince himself that she was safe and back _with_ him.

"And?" The gleam in Rhodey's eyes meant that he knew there was more to the story, and Tony sighed.

"I was in her apartment at the time." He watched his friend sort through a number of possible responses, but instead of the raillery he was expecting, Rhodey's gaze softened.

"Huh." He sipped from his mug. "And she hasn't killed you yet? I'm impressed."

Tony rolled his eyes, and Rhodey chuckled. "You always did have great timing. But if you keep hovering like you have been, she's going to clock you with her BlackBerry."

"I'll take the risk." Tony swirled the last inch of his cocoa in its mug, wondering idly if the pantry held any marshmallows. "It's not like I have anything going that can't be put on hold for a bit."

Rhodey chuckled again. "That'll last until she gets control of your schedule again."

Tony rose, trying to remember what he'd seen on the pantry shelves. "Yeah, yeah." He stepped into the storage closet, and grinned at the bag of tiny white cylinders stored at eye level. "Hey, turn the kettle back on, platypus."

When he came out, Rhodey was complying, looking sour. "Don't call me that," he said automatically, then raised his brows. "What have you got there?"

Tony tossed the bag on the table. "Processed sugar, mostly."

Rhodey eyed it, then grinned. "Hey, got any toothpicks?"

* * *

When Jarvis told her that Dr. Phair was entering the gates, Virginia told Jacquie goodbye and hung up the phone, feeling better for the talk with her friend, if still stressed. Jacquie was a sensible woman and hadn't pressed her to say anything she didn't want to, but Virginia could sense the other woman's concern, and knew that sooner or later she would have to go into more detail.

She sighed. _The day's not half over and I'm already so_ _ **tired.**_ Part of it was psychological, she knew; her emotional reserves were extremely low, and being the focus of everyone's attention was draining. But it was seriously annoying to be feeling so worn when she normally handled ten times the stress without flinching.

She rose and stretched her sore muscles, then headed out of her office to let her doctor in, figuring that the men had gone down to the garage. But male laughter caught her ear as she passed the kitchen, and she stopped to look in.

The scene was carnage. The table was scattered with empty cocoa packets and covered in what Virginia devoutly _hoped_ was flour; on either side of it sat two men whose silly grins and hands full of marshmallows indicated a sugar high of massive proportions. All across the table were sculptures made of marshmallows strung on toothpicks, various stylized animals and people, and she took a deep breath and tried to be grateful that they hadn't thought to decorate their creations with anything sticky.

"Let me guess--winter in Candyland?" she asked.

"See, told you she'd know," Tony said, his grin on the other side of manic.

Rhodey giggled, a sound downright unnerving in someone of his size and age. "Hey, I voted for the North Pole, but we couldn't find any cherries."

Virginia thought about that for a moment, and then decided that she didn't want to follow where it led, assuming it led anywhere at all. "I'm going to go let Dr. Phair in now. I suggest you two have some protein to balance that out, because I'm not going to be sympathetic when you crash."

That got _both_ of them giggling, and she left them to it, trying to decide whether to make them clean up the kitchen later or save hassle and do it herself. _It could be worse--they haven't thrown anything._

_Yet._

Dr. Phair had been Virginia's primary care physician for as long as she'd worked for Tony, and Virginia smiled at the woman, glad to see her. "This way, and ignore the noise," she said, gesturing towards the bedroom wing.

Phair didn't flinch at the amiable shouting coming from the kitchen. Barely coming up to Virginia's shoulder, she exuded a strong air of serenity and never seemed to be surprised by anything. "I'm glad to see you're doing well," she said, following Virginia into one of the guest bedrooms.

"Pretty much," Virginia agreed, sitting down on the bedspread. Phair closed the door behind them and set down the bag she carried. She wore a stethoscope around her neck and her hair tucked away under a khimar, and Virginia had seen haughty surgeons give way before her quiet force of personality.

"Well, clearly you're not in need of emergency treatment," Phair went on, turning her gaze on Virginia. "But I've been instructed to check you over thoroughly nonetheless."

Virginia refrained from rolling her eyes. "I'm sure."

The doctor laughed, and sat down in one of the room's cozy armchairs. "First off, though, why don't you tell me a little of what you've been doing?"

Unlike the special agent, Phair didn't probe, and Virginia wasn't very surprised to find herself more willing to speak of her abduction than she had been to anyone so far. Part of it was Phair's lack of emotional involvement; part of it was her complete lack of judgment. As Virginia gave an abbreviated version of the last several days, she got the feeling that the only interest Phair had was in how the events might have impacted Virginia's health.

"Hmm. Very clever, your river idea," was her comment when Virginia finished, and Phair lifted her eyes to meet Virginia's, calm and clear. "No sexual assault?"

Virginia swallowed, because it had been one of her fears all along, and she had gotten the distinct feeling that at least one of her captors might have gone that route if things had been just a little different. "No."

Phair nodded. "Good." She rose. "Let's start with your chest, then, though if you were going to have problems from the sedative you would know it already."

She listened to Virginia's heart and lungs, checked her eyes and ears, and inspected her battered feet, sitting without self-consciousness on the carpet to examine Virginia's toes. "I don't think you have anything to fear from the river water," she said in response to Virginia's question. "Again, you'd know by now. It was probably wise to keep consumption to a minimum, but many of those mountain streams are surprisingly clean. Pollution is really more of a problem."

Virginia breathed out in relief, and Phair smiled up at her briefly. "You do, however, have a small infection going on your second toe here. I'll clean it up for you, and leave you some antibiotic ointment, and as long as you keep an eye on things it should heal up in a few days."

Virginia grinned down at her. "I figured I was good, but it's always nice to have it confirmed."

Phair smiled back and reached for her bag, which she'd taken to the floor with her. "See if you're smiling in a few minutes. This is going to hurt."

It did, but not unbearably. Virginia set her teeth and endured the alcohol and the bandaging, feeling some of the old air of pride when Phair was done that she had when holding still as a child so her mother could remove a splinter. Her mother's reward had been a hug and a Hershey's Kiss; Phair provided neither, but gave Virginia another warm smile when she was finished. "There, good for you."

Phair stood and packed her supplies away, and Virginia let the sting fade and inserted her feet gingerly into her slippers once more. "Seeing a mental health specialist would probably be a good idea," Phair said gently as she closed the bag. "I can give you the names of some victim aid services."

Virginia bit back a surge of annoyance at the term _victim_. "It's been discussed," she said instead. "Let's say, I'm keeping it in mind."

Phair nodded, again without judgment. "Very well. It's your choice. But you can probably expect mood swings and some irritability over the next few days." She sat down on the edge of the chair. "You're a little underweight, more so than usual, so I want you eating properly this week."

Virginia nodded, her temper evening out; being lightly scolded by Phair was a normal occurrence. The doctor went on. "You may have escaped serious injury, but you had a traumatic experience all the same, and it is taking its toll on your body. Treat yourself gently and give your body time to recover."

Virginia sighed. There would be so much to _do_ \-- "I hear you," she said, knowing that Phair would see right through her evasion.

The doctor raised her brows. "See that you remember, then." Rising, she picked up her case. "Right now, I prescribe a nap. Don't get up; I remember the way."

Smiling serenely, she let herself out, closing the door behind her. Virginia had to laugh; but the advice was good, and the bed did look enticing.

_Well, Tony did tell me to take some time off._

In the end, she wasn't sure if it was weariness that had her lying down, or the desire to avoid two grown men gone silly with sugar, but either way she stretched out and closed her eyes.

* * *

A warm hand stroking her hair back from her face woke her slowly. For a moment she just lay still and enjoyed the sensation, a simple innocent pleasure that didn't require a response from her sleep-heavy limbs. Then Tony spoke, and Virginia became aware of the dip in the mattress from his seated weight. "Pepper, I hate to wake you, but the stylist just got here, and you need to eat something."

She opened her eyes to the sight of a denim-clad leg, and rolled slowly onto her back. Tony's hand fell away, and she blinked at the ceiling, still half-drowned in sleep. "All right," she muttered, not quite sure what she was acknowledging.

Tony chuckled. "Are you actually awake, or just faking?" He reached over and tapped her gently on the nose, and she blinked again, swatting at him and missing by a mile. "A little bit of both, I think."

"Shut up." She rubbed her eyes, trying to pull her brain together, then glanced over at him suspiciously. "Are you over your sugar high?"

"Yep." Tony smirked at her. She finally took in the angle of the light from the windows beyond him, and sat up straight.

"How long have I been _asleep?"_

Tony cocked his head. "Almost three hours. Relax, Potts, it was doctor's orders."

"Ugh, I'm never going to get to sleep _tonight._ " Virginia clutched at her hair and was reminded yet again of its damage.

"I could help with that," Tony offered teasingly, an innuendo so familiar that she could let it slide past without comment. "Here."

He picked up a plate from the bedside table and held it out. The pita sandwich looked like something she'd have created herself, sprouts and turkey and the light mayonnaise she favored, along with some tomato slices. Virginia took the plate automatically; she could smell the turkey, and it made her mouth water. "You made me a sandwich?"

Tony shrugged. "Phair said I should feed you up. I'm not sure if that means I should give you regular soda instead of diet, but believe it or not I don't seem to have any regular mayonnaise..."

His gentle rambling was reassuring, though because it represented normality or because it meant _he_ was a little nervous, she didn't know. She gave him a smile. "Thank you, Tony."

He let out a breath, and the corner of his mouth curled up, that personal, devastating look. "Eat up."

She _was_ hungry, now that she thought about it. Virginia nibbled on the corner of the pocket, then took a proper bite. It tasted just fine.

Tony rose, hands in his pockets again, and wandered across the room. "Rhodey had to take off," he informed her, hitching one hip up onto the little desk placed against the wall. "Some kind of emergency meeting. He's been burning leave the past few days to help out with the search."

She swallowed her mouthful, feeling slightly guilty even though she knew it wasn't her fault. "He's not in trouble, is he?"

Tony shook his head. "Nah, the Air Force was all about the good publicity in fact. Which pissed him off, but oh well."

Virginia took another bite, thinking about the effort that must have been mounted to find her. It was a reassuring thought even after the fact. When she was finished chewing, she spoke. "I had no idea. I mean, I knew you'd be worried about me, but I didn't know you had an entire search going."

" _Worried?_ " Tony's brows snapped together, his stormy look. "Pepper, I was a lot more than _worried_. I was fucking _terrified._ "

She put down the plate, unprepared for his sudden intensity. "Tony, I..."

He was back across the room with that unsettling speed, hands on the bedspread on either side of her as he leaned down towards her. "You were _gone,_ Potts," he growled into her ear as Pepper sat frozen. His breath was raising goosebumps all along that side of her neck. "I couldn't _find_ you."

It wasn't his fierceness that held her in place; it was the devastation in his words, the faint tremble in his voice. Virginia wanted to reach up and _hug_ him, and the desire was so confusing that she held very still, fingers twisting together in her lap.

"You smell so good," Tony said in an entirely different tone, this one dazed and soft. His face pressed into her hair, and she shivered at the feel of his cheek rubbing against the crown of her head.

"Tony--" she tried, and he straightened.

"Sorry." His cheeks held a hint of pink. "I'll--uh--you finish your sandwich. The stylist is setting up in your office."

He was out the door before she could muster words. Virginia stared after him, not sure whether she was more annoyed at the way he kept touching her, or...or... _flattered_ wasn't the word, nor was _pleased,_ but it was a positive emotion.

She closed her eyes, exhaled sharply, told her hormones to behave themselves, and reached for the sandwich.

* * *

Two hours later her hair was smooth and even again, a glossy cap that felt strange after so many years of wearing it past her shoulders, but Virginia was satisfied. It would do until she could grow it out again, and in the meantime she felt more in control with the ragged cut gone. She wasn't as happy about the speculation that would no doubt arise from her changed appearance, but-- _There's no helping that._

Tony met her as she came back from seeing the stylist out, and when she halted he raised a hand to touch. "It looks good," he told her, his fingers gentle as they brushed past her ear but his eyes strangely intense.

She swallowed; it felt like every inch of her skin was aware of his touch. "Thank you," she managed, holding still until he'd let his hand drop. "Tony--I really need to call Cedric."

"You can tell him you're okay," Tony answered, standing aside to let her pass. "But I'm cutting you off after three minutes, Potts."

He sounded amused, but she could tell by the set of his jaw that he was probably going to follow through on his threat. She sighed silently, and wondered if it was possible to distract him first.

When he handed her the phone and wandered off, Virginia hoped, but a couple of minutes into her conversation with her very relieved assistant Jarvis' voice came on the line. "My apologies, Ms. Potts, Mr. Toffle, but I have been instructed to terminate this connection in another thirty seconds."

She sighed again. "E-mail me, Ceddie, my laptop's in my office here. You can always come by, too."

A nervous gulp reached her ear, and she had to smile a little--Cedric was completely awed by Tony. "I will," her assistant said, clearly lying through his teeth, and she rolled her eyes.

"Good. Keep me posted." She hung up before Jarvis could cut them off, contemplated explaining to Tony in tedious detail just how much his restrictions were damaging his own interests, and as usual decided to pass.

_Too much effort, and neither of us is drunk enough._

* * *

He'd been trying to give her space like Rhodey had recommended, but when Pepper let herself into his workshop Tony felt his spine relax. He could keep an eye on her almost anywhere in his house, but it wasn't the same as seeing her in the flesh and _knowing_ she was all right.

Still, he let her come to him where he was working idly on an old coding project. She looked very informal in her loose pants and sweatshirt and actual fuzzy slippers, and her shorter hair was still a slight shock; he watched out of the corner of his eye as she grimaced and hitched herself up onto a clear space on one of his workbenches.

"Feet hurt?" Tony asked casually, and Pepper stretched out her ankles and looked down at the limbs in question.

"Some, yes. Not too bad, though."

He held his tongue. Dr. Phair had refused to violate patient confidentiality, but she'd relented enough to tell Tony that his PA didn't need further medical attention, and he knew that Pepper knew just what was in the medicine cabinet if she needed it. The fact that he wanted to devise some kind of wheelchair so she wouldn't have to walk until her feet healed was...irrelevant.

Pepper sighed. "I'm going to order dinner in a little while. And I need you to get Jarvis to unlock my laptop."

Tony swiveled his chair around to face her, tilting it back. "Uh-uh, nothing doing, Potts. I talked to Phair and she agrees with me. Two weeks, at least."

Pepper closed her eyes briefly in clear annoyance. "This isn't for work, Tony. It's personal. I want to track down the people who drove me home so I can thank them."

Two taps cleared the screen he was working on and brought up the data he'd retrieved earlier. "Michael and Patricia Franklin, daughters Dinah and Helena. Santa Monica." At her raised brow, he shrugged. "The security camera outside your place caught their plate. Jarvis did the rest."

Pepper huffed a laugh. "I should have known."

Tony leaned back again, lacing his fingers behind his head. "You know, I offered a pretty hefty reward for any information about your abduction. Seems to me they deserve it for bringing you home."

"I won't argue with that." Pepper's face was grave. "But I'd like to see them again...say thank you in person. They didn't know who I was, you know. They just drove me home because they were nice."

"Absolutely." Tony already planned on inviting himself along; Pepper's safety aside, he wanted to offer his personal thanks as well. Without the Franklins, Pepper would have taken hours longer to get home...or might even still be wandering in the park, trying to find a way out. "We could do it tomorrow, if you want."

"That would be good." She swung her feet a little, suddenly appearing ten years younger than her actual age. "But I still need my laptop. The Franklins...they aren't the only people I owe."

"Your missing camper?" Tony asked gently, and Pepper nodded.

"I don't think I would have made it out of the forest otherwise. I'd like to see if I can find out what happened to him."

"Get Jarvis to help." Tony keyed in a few quick commands, instructing the AI to release Pepper's laptop but to maintain a block on anything related to Stark Industries. "He can probably hack the National Forest Service if you need to."

Pepper nodded, mouth twisting wryly, and then drew in a breath. The laugh she let out was was sour. "You know...I still don't even know where I _was."_

Tony stared at her, and she shrugged. "I forgot to ask the Franklins."

Despite her attempt at humor, Pepper looked more fragile than ever, huddling into her sweatshirt, and Tony's throat ached a little at the renewed realization of just how isolated she'd been. The urge to go gather her up into another hug was strong, but he resisted. "Angeles National Forest," he said, clearing his throat. "Right on the edge."

Pepper's brows flew up. "Wow. Good thing I didn't go _uphill,_ then." Without explaining her dry words, she eased herself off the workbench and headed back towards the stairs, moving at an amble rather than her usual brisker pace.

"My laptop had better be running by the time I get back to it, Tony," she said over her shoulder, the casual statement just like her usual mock-threatening asides, and Tony made a face at her back, somewhat relieved.

"Take the elevator," he called after her, and when she waved him off without turning he keyed in the stairwell lock remotely, the _clunk_ of the bolts clearly audible to them both.

Pepper halted, the line of her back eloquent of annoyance, then changed course for the little alcove that housed the lift. "Just for that I'm not ordering dessert," she said, still not turning, and let the little door swing shut behind her.

Satisfied, Tony returned to his programming.

When he came upstairs a few hours later, he found sunset staining the sea outside the windows, and no supper delivered. Pepper lay curled up on the long couch, her laptop sitting on the low table and cycling patiently through its screensaver, oblivious to her long slow breaths. Tony stood and watched, almost holding his own breath for fear of waking her, but she never moved.

_So much for not being able to sleep tonight, sweetheart._

He debated between the merits of food and sleep, and finally decided that she needed unconsciousness more. Tony poured himself a whiskey at the bar and sat down next to Pepper, using the table console to bring up the latest news about himself on the window. The light faded as he sipped his drink, one arm stretched along the back of the couch; the images flashed silently at double-speed and their subtitles flickered in and out. Pepper's recovery was the most common subject, of course, with mentions of the Sespe rescue, his mission in Farkar, and Stark Industries' stock price duking it out for second place.

No mention was made of the escaped kidnapper. Tony hoped the man was running for his life.

_If he comes anywhere near Pepper again, I'll kill him._

Suit or no suit.

Eventually the stories began to repeat themselves. The sun and his drink were both long gone, and Pepper still slept. Tony shut off the display, rose, and carefully lifted her into his arms. When she didn't move, he carried her into the guest suite she'd chosen, and without hesitation laid them both down on the mattress.

It was easy to settle her in the curve of his body, her warm weight slight and limp. _She's going to be pissed_ drifted past, but Tony paid no attention. He let his arm find its place along her waist, the position as natural as if they'd been doing it for years, and rubbed his cheek against her hair, luxuriating in her scent, her very existence.

 _Pepper,_ he thought contentedly.


	10. Chapter 10

She was dreaming; wandering down some long outdoor storage space floored with grass, trying to get Tony's attention as he selected a watermelon from the shelves. He had a meeting that he was supposed to be at right _then,_ but he ignored her, going on about how they'd find a nice shady spot and have a picnic. The watermelon he carried kept growing in his arms, and she was torn between the meeting's urgency and worrying about how she was going to eat her share of the fruit. But no matter how long they walked, the shelves never seemed to end...

When Virginia opened her eyes she had to wonder if she were still dreaming. But while she might have mistaken the black cotton for something else, the arc reactor poking through it was a dead giveaway. The glow was mere inches from her nose, and as she came awake she realized that her hand was resting on the warm rise of Tony's hip, and the fingers cupping the back of her neck must therefore belong to him as well.

It was a _deeply_ confusing position to find herself in, except as far as she could remember Virginia had fallen asleep on the couch, by herself. Which meant she wasn't responsible for the current situation. She tried to be offended, but couldn't quite manage it; instead, she felt that weird pleasure again, mixed with a pulse of compassion. However cheerful Tony was trying to be, the fact that he'd repeated their sleep from the night before told her he was still in the throes of the...well... _need_ was the only word that seemed to fit. The need to be near her.

And while she supposed his sleeping with her was an invasion of her privacy, she'd issued the invitation first. There was nothing sexual in the way he was cuddling her; his embrace was more protective than anything else.

Drawing in a breath, Pepper lifted her arm and rolled cautiously back. Tony's hand fell away, but he didn't stir, and she couldn't help smiling a little at the sight of him unshaven and relaxed. Of all the myriad ways she'd seen him over the years, _asleep_ was actually a rarity.

She was stiff and sore, but a shower and a session with her toothbrush left her feeling somewhat better. Virginia dried her hair quickly and regarded herself sourly in the bathroom mirror. "I still look like hell," she muttered.

Her hair still bothered her, and she looked tired and stressed even though it felt like she'd done nothing but sleep since her return. _But it's better than the alternative._

She applied a little eyeshadow and lipgloss. Normally she didn't bother with makeup when she was on sick leave, but she felt the need for a little shoring up, and dressing up in work clothes seemed silly as long as she wasn't allowed to actually _work._ "Jarvis," she said out loud, setting down the tube of gloss, "can you please start the coffee?"

"Of course," the AI replied. "May I add, Pepper, that it is good to have you back safely?"

The mellow voice was no more emotional than it ever was, but Virginia had to smile, touched all the same. "Jarvis, it's good to _be_ back."

When she came out of the bathroom, Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed, yawning and scratching his scalp. He looked up, and his smile was slow and delighted. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Virginia said briefly, propping her hands on her hips.

Tony held up both hands, the smile fading. "I was just keeping an eye on you. That's all it was, I swear."

"I know." Virginia sighed. "Tony...I appreciate you putting me to bed, but no more _joining_ me there."

She half-expected a protest, or innuendo, but he nodded soberly. "Okay. You can soak in the Jacuzzi, you know, or I can get a masseuse in. Or both."

"I'll think about it." The idea of the hot tub didn't appeal just post-shower, but Virginia imagined she'd feel differently by afternoon.

Tony rose with one graceful motion, his face relaxing into a more familiar cocky smile. "Good. First you need breakfast."

"Eat, sleep--you know, I _am_ capable of other things," Virginia grumbled. Tony snickered.

"You're entitled to a little role-reversal. Suck it up." He scratched absently at the fabric covering his abdomen. "Breakfast is on me, as soon as I grab a shower."

He strode towards her, leaned in, and planted a quick sound kiss on her lips. "We still need to talk," he said easily, and vanished out the door, leaving her gaping.

Virginia shut her mouth and cast her gaze up at the ceiling. She knew Tony would stop crossing that line if she told him to. But underneath her surprise at his high-handedness was still that odd pleasure. She had spent a great deal of her life alone; realizing that Tony had missed her far more than any working relationship could encompass was knowledge that left her both confused and wondering.

_I didn't think he was serious. But...maybe..._

She was just pouring the first omelette into the pan when she heard bare feet on the tile. "I _said_ I'd do it, Pepper," Tony said, sounding exasperated.

Virginia didn't turn, concentrating on her cooking. "I'm hungry. Do you want toast, or would you rather have cereal?"

His sigh was audible. "Toast. I'll make it."

Whether it was serendipity or his sense of timing, the last slices of toast were ready the moment she dished up the second omelette. When she turned from the stove, a plate in each hand, Virginia was a little startled to see that Tony had set the table and even poured them both juice as well as coffee--out of character for someone who usually used a paper towel as a napkin. But she said nothing, sliding the plates into place and taking her seat.

Tony passed her the butter silently, and she deduced that he was still out of temper. She was used to his mercurial moods, and decided to ignore his grump rather than cajole him out of it. Keeping her own face pleasant, she dug into her breakfast; Tony could sulk better than anyone she knew, but he couldn't take silence for long.

She'd made her way through half her omelette before he started fidgeting. Finally Tony sighed again, and wadded up his napkin, tossing it halfway across the little kitchen table. "Do you want to go see the Franklins today?"

It wasn't what she expected, and Virginia blinked, coffee mug pausing on its way to her lips. She regarded her boss across the table and realized, again, how desperately _tired_ he looked. Two nights of sleep hadn't been enough, to judge by the fatigue in his face; and with a pang she realized that the tiny lines running back from his eyes were deeper than they had been a week before.

"That would be good," she said at last, lifting the cup the rest of the way for a sip. "They're bound to have figured it out by now."

He nodded, and glanced at his watch. "Give me a couple of hours, I have a teleconference coming up." She blinked, and he grinned. "I'm not _completely_ helpless, Potts. Besides, it was scheduled a month ago."

With that, he stood and strode out, whistling off-key.

Virginia shook her head, and finished her breakfast. Tony might have set the table, she noted sardonically, but he certainly hadn't cleared it.

But tidying up after him was soothing in its familarity, and she took her time over the task, wryly aware that once it was finished she had nothing else to do until Tony was ready to leave. Unscheduled free time was such a rarity that she didn't quite know what to do with it.

 _I'd read, but all my books are at home._ And while Tony did have an actual library in one wing, most of it was not to her taste; she'd never been a fan of military history.

Virginia closed the dishwasher door and straightened. "I could draw," she said out loud, more to keep herself company than anything else. "Or work on the chore list."

She had a small folder of little tasks that she never seemed to find time to do, given her overfull schedule; filing old papers and the like. But she had a sneaking suspicion--

"Jarvis, what happens if I go into my office?" she asked.

"I am instructed to observe you, and report to Mr. Stark if you attempt to do anything related to your employment," the AI replied.

She grimaced. She was tempted to try it anyway, on the chance that Tony would not take a non-urgent call from Jarvis while in the middle of a video-conference. _Hell, I'm tempted to put tape over the cameras._

Her mouth quirked at the idea; _would_ Jarvis report that, if she asked him not to? The AI's boundaries were often hard to determine, and Pepper couldn't always predict what he might do. But if Tony was working, she didn't want to discourage such behavior.

"Heck with it," she said, half to Jarvis and half to herself. "I'm going for a swim."

She hadn't packed a swimsuit, but Virginia actually kept one at Tony's house. It didn't get much use, but every so often she found the time to take a quick dip, either in Tony's pool or in the ocean--breaks he encouraged, and she didn't think it was just to get a glimpse of her in a tank suit.

_You have to give him credit. He may run you ragged, but he does his best to make up for it._

She changed into the suit and applied sunscreen, and slipped out one of the side doors to the pool. She really preferred the ocean, but the scabs on her feet were sure to soften in the water, and she didn't want sand getting into them. _Not to mention the salt would hurt like crazy._

But the pool water was cool and silky against her skin--sterile compared to her saving river, but clear and soothing and buoyant. And, she discovered, her new haircut might be too short to braid, but it could be swept out of her face much more easily than the strands that used to float loose from whatever fastening she put on it before swimming.

Virginia stroked back and forth lazily, slow laps, enjoying the weightlessness the water provided and the chance to stretch without having to take balance into consideration. Her feet in particular appreciated the pool; the half-healed cuts stung for a moment but no more, and she lost herself in the mindless bliss of movement. The sun glittered on the water, glowed on the tiles; the scent of chlorine filled her nose, and the only sounds were the waves she made and the cry of a gull far overhead.

Finally she let herself drift to a stop. The idea of taking a drink out on one of the elaborate inflatable lounges Tony kept for guests was tempting, and she had no doubt that he would be happy if she did, but to Virginia the idea seemed just a little too familiar. _I'm not a guest...exactly._

There was no precise definition for what she was at the moment, besides _on leave_. She closed her eyes and floated, the sun hot on her face and the water rocking her as gently as a lover, and declined to argue the point just then.

She was halfway to dreaming when Jarvis spoke. "Ms. Potts, Tony has just concluded his video-conference and wants to know when you will be ready to go."

It was strangely hard to leave her somnolence, but Virginia stroked upright in the water and opened her eyes again. "Ten minutes, Jarvis."

"Very good." As the last syllable fell, a hum reached her ears, and she saw Dummy rolling around the corner of the deck. The robot bore one of the hugely fluffy terrycloth bathrobes that were another of Tony's poolside perks, and she sighed as she swam to the stairs at the shallow end, debating whether it had been his idea or Jarvis'.

As she stepped back into her sandals and wiped her face dry with a towel, Virginia drew breath to refuse the robe held open before her, but for something with no face at all the 'bot had perfected the art of looking beseeching. So she sighed, and turned, and let the deft claw settle the thick white wrap on her shoulders before she tied it shut. The Stark Industries logo was embroidered on one breast, white thread on white, and she wondered as she always did whether that detail had been Tony's idea or his father's.

_Or Obadiah's. I wouldn't put it past him._

She was past master at the art of getting ready quickly. Within ten minutes she had rinsed off, dressed, and reapplied makeup, reflecting in passing that the shorter hair also dried faster. She slipped her feet gingerly into flats and headed out to find Tony.

* * *

The ride to the Franklins' was as quiet as breakfast had been. Tony found himself not knowing what to say, which was a novelty and very uncomfortable; and Pepper, sitting at the other end of the limo's bench seat and looking absently out the window, didn't seem inclined to start a conversation.

So he watched her, taking note of every detail; the way her new haircut tended to hide her face in profile, the tension in her body, the pinkness of lingering sunburn across her cheekbones. She was dressed somewhere between the formality of her work wardrobe and the relaxed outfit she'd worn the day before--white pants and a pullover blouse in blue-green silk suited her very well, and Tony was glad he'd kept the button-down shirt and slacks he'd worn for his teleconference. That way, they matched.

When Happy pulled the limo up in front of the Franklins' townhouse, Tony saw a little girl out front, jumping rope on the sidewalk. She was wearing a pink sparkly tutu, a ratty t-shirt, and cowboy boots, but the moment she saw Pepper get out of the limo she dropped the rope and rushed over. "Miss Virginia!"

Her use of the name startled Tony, though he heard Pepper's given name often enough. The sight of Pepper bending to shake hands with the kid shook him for some reason, and he hung back a step until she straightened. "Dinah, this is my friend, Mr. Stark."

"I _know!"_ Dinah's excitement was high-pitched, but not so shrill as to be unbearable, and the beaming smile she turned on him had him smiling back and offering a hand to be shaken as well. "We saw you on TV! You were _kidnapped!"_

Pepper's wince was so small that Tony almost missed it. "Yes, I was, but lucky for me you guys rescued me."

"Did they catch the bad guys? Were you scared? Mommy says you were really brave. I think I'd be brave if someone kidnapped me--" Dinah wasn't allowing enough space for replies, but as she spoke she took Pepper's hand again and tugged her towards the house. The look Pepper shot him was eloquent, amusement and nervousness mixed, and he nodded to show he'd follow her lead.

At the door, Pepper stopped and broke into the flow of chatter. "Dinah, sweetie, we'll wait outside until you tell your parents we're here, okay?"

The impatient look Dinah shot her made Tony snicker, but the child obeyed, opening the door and bouncing inside without bothering to close it behind her. "Hey! Everybody! Miss Virginia's here!"

"Is the other one like that too?" Tony asked, idly picking up the discarded jumprope and coiling it neatly. "If so, I pity them."

Pepper's lips twitched. "No, Helena's much quieter, but then she's younger." She gave him a little grin. "Frankly, I'm surprised Dinah doesn't seem familiar."

"Hey, I was never that--" Tony began, mildly insulted, but before he could finish a woman appeared in the doorway, startlement and politeness mingling on her face. He shifted at once to his public mode, and gave her a disarming smile as Pepper stepped forward.

"Hello, Trish--I'm sorry to drop in on you uninvited, but I wanted to stop by and say thank you."

" _We_ wanted to thank you," Tony corrected, pulling off his sunglasses and holding out a hand. "Tony Stark."

Mrs. Franklin's handshake was automatic, and he could see the rather stunned expression in her eyes. That, he was used to; being a celebrity meant that so-called ordinary people often didn't know how to react to him. But she had self-possession enough to invite them inside. "Um, Mike's out back, but I'll call him right in--would you like something to drink? I don't know--"

Pepper took an extra step to catch up as Mrs. Franklin led them into a cluttered living room that looked like a lot of living was done there. "That sounds great. Trish, don't worry about it--" as the woman bent to swipe hastily at the toys and papers littering the coffee table.

Dinah reappeared, towing a smaller girl. "This is Mister Stark," she said proudly to her sister, displaying Tony with a broad gesture. "From the TV, remember? He's Miss Virginia's boss and the Iron Guy and lots of other stuff."

The four-year-old had her thumb in her mouth and looked up at him with big, wary eyes. Tony dropped into a crouch, and wiggled his fingers in a wave. "Hi."

Helena looked him over carefully, then removed the thumb. "Hi," she said softly.

With the air of one who had accomplished her mission, Dinah released her sister and darted away in a flurry of tulle, boots clunking despite the carpet. Helena immediately went over and attached herself to her mother's leg. Amused, Tony straightened.

Pepper appeared to have calmed Mrs. Franklin's initial burst of nerves with her usual skill, though Trish still looked uncomfortable. "--wasn't that big a deal," she was saying to Pepper. "You didn't have to..."

Pepper smiled, her professional people skills mixing with genuine warmth. "Yes, I did. We did," she corrected, shooting a quick glance at Tony. "Consider it setting a good example for your girls, if that helps."

Mrs. Franklin laughed, a surprised sound. "Touché. Well, sit down and I'll get that lemonade."

She hurried out, hands still full and Helena trotting right behind, and before either of them could choose a seat a slender man came in, wiping his face with a ragged piece of cloth. "Wow. Dinah was right, wow. Uh, hi, I'm Mike--"

There was another round of handshakes. Tony and Pepper both ended up sitting on the couch, while Mike perched on the edge of a rocker that looked like a well-loved heirloom. "Sorry, it's not every day we get celebrities visiting," he said with a laugh.

Pepper waved both hands. "Oh, I'm not--"

"Clearly she hasn't seen the latest news," Tony broke in gently, shooting her a teasing glance. "Don't worry, Potts, it'll all die down soon and you can go back to just being the best PA in the northern hemisphere."

Her muted glare was a reminder that he hadn't let her do a press release yet, but it served to relax Mike a little, and he laughed again. "Earning your salary, huh?" he said to Pepper, but the common phrase had the air of a private joke, and to Tony's surprise she smiled back.

"Always."

They chatted for a few minutes about innocuous subjects, and Tony took the time to observe the room. It was slightly shabby, but welcoming, and the various framed pictures of the girls at different ages made it clear that a family lived there. Tony was suddenly reminded of the house he'd grown up in; it had been larger, and kept ruthlessly tidy by a staff of at least four, but there had been photos and toys and the same feeling of family. The memory made his stomach feel hollow, and he pushed the sensation away, unwilling to be distracted just then.

Then Dinah and Trish came in, the latter carrying a tray of glasses and Dinah proudly bearing a large pitcher of lemonade. Trish poured, and Dinah handed out the glasses, but before the girl could sit Trish laid a hand on her shoulder. "Honey, Helena's cup is in the kitchen, can you give it to her and keep an eye on her while we talk?"

Dinah pouted. "But I want to stay and see Miss Virginia!"

Tony didn't see why she couldn't, but he wasn't going to get involved. Pepper smiled at Dinah. "I'll come and talk to you in a little bit, okay?"

Dinah heaved a melodramatic sigh. "Ohhhkay." Taking her glass, she dragged out of the room with an accusing look back.

Mike chuckled. "Sorry. She tends to, well, dominate the conversation."

"I can understand that," Pepper said with a grin, and Tony nudged her knee with his own in retaliation, which made both the Franklins laugh. They were quick, he saw with satisfaction.

"We don't want to take up too much of your time," he said, figuring that the family had Saturday plans of some kind. "But Pepper and I both owe you."

Trish lifted both hands in a frustrated gesture. "We didn't do much. And anyway it was just the right thing, you know?"

"Trish, before I found you someone passed me on the road," Pepper said quietly. "He, or maybe it was a she, didn't even slow down when I waved. If it hadn't been for you I might have been lost another day. Or more."

Trish flushed, and closed her mouth. Mike reached over and touched his wife's knee. "We're glad we could help," he said.

Tony nodded. "I could make a nice speech about how good choices should be rewarded and so forth, but you're not the press." He reached into his breast pocket for the check he'd written earlier. "I put up a reward for information. You brought Pepper home. You more than deserve it."

He leaned across the cluttered coffee table to give the check to Mike, who took it slowly, as if he wanted to refuse. But Tony regarded him steadily, putting all the force of his own will into the look, and the paper slipped from his fingers to Mike's.

The truth was, he couldn't really repay them for rescuing Pepper. There was no price tag for something like that. But he could show his gratitude.

As if dazed, Mike unfolded the check, and his eyes widened. Trish leaned over to look, and hiccuped faintly, hands flying up to cover her mouth as if to keep back some exclamation. "I...we..." Mike began.

Pepper shook her head. "Don't bother. It takes years of practice to win an argument with Tony Stark, and even then you end up exhausted." Her smile was just a touch wicked. "You might as well give in now and save yourself the trouble."

Trish's eyes were watering above her tight-clasped fingers, and Tony gave her a grin. "I'd listen if I were you. Ms. Potts gives excellent advice."

The couple shared a long, speaking glance, and seemed to come to some agreement, because Mike turned back to them. "...Thank you," he said, his voice a touch hoarse.

Tony shook his head. "Thank _y--"_ he began, but a thump and a rising wail of outrage cut him short.

" _Mommy!"_ Dinah called, sounding more impatient than frightened, and Trish sprang to her feet.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice wavering slightly, and hurried out of the room towards the howls. Mike chuckled ruefully.

"Peace is never long-lived around here." He still held the check carefully, as if it were something fragile.

"Look on the bright side," Pepper said cheerfully. "She's not blowing things up."

Mike laughed outright, and Tony nudged her again, pretending irritation but pleased at the lightening of the atmosphere.

"Mommy said I could come back in," Dinah announced, bouncing back into the living room. "Helena needs a _nap._ "

The pronouncement, laden with disgust, tickled Tony. As Dinah advanced on the couch, Pepper scooted hastily over to the middle, leaving space for the little girl on the end. Tony knew Pepper was just moving to protect him from possible annoyance, a professional duty, but he still took pleasure in the nearness of her body to his.

There were no awkward pauses in the conversation with Dinah participating. Mike managed to rein her in once or twice, but it was clear that they were the sort of parents who encouraged interaction from their children, and Tony found himself more amused and less bored than he expected to be by Dinah's questions and tangents. After a few minutes Trish returned with her younger daughter in her arms and resumed her seat in the recliner, Helena cuddling close and sucking on her thumb.

Pepper managed to divert Dinah into a separate conversation, and Tony talked with Trish about programming for a little while, before Pepper glanced at her watch and said that they had to go. All the Franklins saw them to the door; as Mike shook Tony's hand, Tony saw Pepper saying something to Trish that made the latter shake her head, but Pepper persisted and finally Trish nodded.

"What was that about?" he asked when the limo had pulled out of sight of Dinah's last wave. "You and Trish."

Pepper smiled, rubbing ruefully at a smudge Dinah had left on her slacks. "It was my thank-you, I set it up with my lawyer last night."

"And?" Tony prodded, curious.

"I set up college funds for both girls. With ten years at least to mature, they should cover anything short of a Ph.D." Pepper gave up on the stain and sat back, looking satisfied.

"Good choice." He mirrored her, reasonably content with the morning's work. Half a million dollars could disappear surprisingly rapidly, though the Franklins didn't strike him as careless; but college funds were highly practical. Much like Pepper herself, in fact.

They were about halfway back to the house when he realized that her expression had gone very bleak, and Tony didn't think that the view she was staring at out the window was causing it. "What's the matter?"

Pepper started a bit, hesitated, and then gave a tiny shrug. "I was just wondering what would have happened to me if they had turned me down," she said quietly.

The mere thought made his chest ache. Tony searched for words, but there didn't seem to be any. It was his turn to hesitate, but finally he slid over on the seat and put a cautious arm around her shoulders.

Pepper sighed, and slowly relaxed against him. They stayed that way, silent, until the limo rolled to a stop.

* * *

They had barely stepped over the threshold when Jarvis spoke overhead. "Mr. Iemochi is calling, sir. The matter appears to be urgent."

Tony swore under his breath. "I'll take it in the den, Jarvis. Put it on video."

He started towards the big dark room that was furnished to impress, but Virginia stepped deftly in front of him, reaching up to straighten his collar. "Are you sure you don't want me taking notes?" she asked quietly.

"Nice try, Potts, but no." Tony snickered, holding still as she tugged. "Jarvis can do it. Go have some lunch or something."

She repressed a sigh, foreseeing more boredom. "There are at least three jackets in the hall closet that match this shirt. Or--" She faltered, realizing that things could have changed while she wasn't there to keep an eye on them. "--There were last week."

If Tony sensed her discomfort, he didn't show it. "Great, thanks," he said distractedly, moving past, his mind clearly already on the call. She watched him go, wondering with no small annoyance what crisis Stark Enterprises Nippon was experiencing, and decided that at least she could make sandwiches. _And send them in with Dummy, if I have to. They'll like that._ She wasn't sure if it was cultural or just engineering geekiness, but the Tokyo board was fascinated by the 'bots.

She was slicing bread when the thought occurred to her. "Jarvis," she said out loud, knowing that the AI could handle any number of simultaneous conversations without trouble, "can you pipe the audio in here?"

Jarvis' hesitation was a programming affectation, she knew, but it was quite effective. "That action does not fall under Mr. Stark's proscription, but I believe it is what is known as violating the spirit of a law."

Virginia smiled dryly, stacking the slices on two plates. "Possibly. But I need to keep abreast of the company's status to be able to do my job effectively when I return." It _was_ possible to out-logic Jarvis on occasion, perhaps because his creator was not always logical himself. "I don't intend to take any action, Jarvis. I just want the information."

The AI didn't reply, but a few seconds later the speakers switched to the ongoing teleconference. She went on making lunch, listening carefully and storing away details, frowning every so often over an idiom she wasn't familiar with. Tony's rapid, accented Japanese was easier for her to follow than the smoother inflections of Mr. Iemochi and his people, but that was because Virginia was used to her boss' cadence. As always, she told herself she really needed a refresher course, and as always was reminded that she just didn't have _time._

 _Well, now you do._ It was a startling thought, but she filed it automatically away lest she lose the thread of the conversation, and reached for the mustard.

She had just finished the assembly when the ongoing discussion shifted to how soon Tony could arrive in Tokyo. Without missing a beat she put the sandwiches under a glass dome and hurried out of the kitchen, heading for his room. Tony always kept a packed bag on hand for emergency trips, but he'd need a few extras. _And it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission._ Not that she intended to actually _ask..._

The teleconference ended a few minutes later, with Tony promising to lift wheels as soon as possible. By then she had already called Tony's pilot, found out from Happy that the freeway was jammed, and arranged for a Stark Industries helicopter flight; she was just tucking an extra undershirt into Tony's bag when he strode in.

"What do I have to do, tie you up?" he asked, sounding more distracted than irritated. "Because I wouldn't _mind,_ but it's a little kinky for sick leave."

Virginia ignored that and zipped his suitcase shut. "You should be cleared for take-off by the time you reach the airport," she told him.

"And _you,_ " Tony addressed the ceiling, starting on his shirt buttons. "I specifically _told_ you--"

"Ms. Potts' logic was formidable," Jarvis began, but Tony growled.

"We'll discuss it later. Remind me." He pulled off his shirt and automatically shrugged into the fresh one Virginia was holding open. "I don't know just what they've been doing to their factory reactor to make it behave like _that,_ but hopefully it won't take too long to fix."

"Hopefully," she agreed, and went to choose him a tie as he re-buttoned. They had this down to an art by now, a smooth dance around one another, and within minutes he was ready to go. She left him to carry his own bag and hurried ahead to the kitchen, only limping slightly. "You can eat on the way," she called back over her shoulder.

The mansion's helipad was at one end of Tony's property, a decent distance from the house to keep the noise down. Tony insisted on driving the quarter-mile, and she didn't argue; whether it was for time's sake or that of her feet was not mentioned, and she was quietly grateful to preserve both her dignity and her toes. Tony put the little convertible's top down so they could see the sky, and shut off the engine.

Virginia couldn't hear the beat of blades yet. She looked over at Tony, whose expression was determined.

"Listen," her boss said, sounding grimmer than usual. "I want you staying at the house while I'm gone. Happy will be living in until I get back, and--"

"Wait just a minute," she interrupted, annoyed at his high-handedness. "Tony, I can understand staying at your place, I already agreed to that, but I don't need _babysitting._ "

His brows snapped together in a glare, and she braced herself for argument, but then he let out his breath in a puff. "It's not for you, Pepper, it's for me."

He reached across the gearshift and took both her hands, his fingers wrapping around hers in a grip that was almost too tight. "I know the odds are low that the scumbag who took you will try to come back, and the chances of him getting into my house are about nil, but I'm going to worry anyway." The look he gave her was was worse than angry; it was entreating, and went straight through her like a lance. "Please, Pepper, for my peace of mind, _please._ "

She couldn't deny him. Not when he'd asked her to spy for him, and not now. "...All right."

Tony let out a long breath, though his tenseness didn't relax. "Good. Thank you."

Over his shoulder Virginia saw movement; the sight of the small helicopter popping up over a ridge reached her at the same time as the sound of its rotors. "Here they come."

They both got out as the helicopter came in to land, Tony circling the car to get his bag from the trunk and Virginia scooping up the lunch she'd packed for him. There would be food on the plane, of course, but the sandwiches were already made.

The chopper's wind stirred her hair to a frenzy and made Tony's tie look like it was trying to escape. As the machine settled into place, Tony turned to her, one hand cupping her shoulder. "You'll be okay?" he shouted over the noise.

"I'll be _fine,_ " she assured him. "Be safe, Tony."

His mouth quirked at the admonishment, but he said nothing more, just squeezing her shoulder before stepping briskly away to toss his suitcase into the helicopter and climb in after it. Virginia retreated to the car to leave the field clear, and watched the chopper lift away, keeping her eyes fixed on the face that watched her from the cockpit until it was too far to make out.

It took her mere moments to drive back to the house, but when she came up from the garage she heard movement in the east wing corridor, and found Happy just closing the door to the guest suite across the hall from hers. He gave her a solemn nod. "You need anything, just ask."

Virginia was touched by his care, but she had no intention of allowing Happy to treat her like an invalid. _With that concussion, I'm probably in better shape than_ _ **he**_ _is._ Not that she planned to mention it.

"Sure," she said dryly, giving him a smile. "You can carry in the popcorn for movie night."

Happy snickered, his gravity easing, though she knew he would take his bodyguard detail seriously. "Please tell me we're not picking from the boss' collection."

"Oh, please." She wrinkled her nose. "Jarvis, you can access my Netflix account, can't you?"

"With pleasure," the AI said. "Do you wish to watch something now?"

"Let's at least wait until sunset," Virginia said, feeling a twinge of guilt. _Though what I'm supposed to do without any work to do--_ She looked at Happy, feeling at a loss.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Did you have lunch already?"

They managed to make lunch last almost an hour, but cleanup was depressingly short, and afterwards they regarded each other with a certain helplessness. Virginia wasn't used to being idle; and while Happy did get periods of downtime, they were usually spent in his little cottage at the gate. Finally she threw up her hands.

"This is ridiculous. What do normal people _do_ when they have time off?"

Happy scratched his head. "Well, usually when he's out of town I give the cars a wash, but..." He gestured awkwardly at her, though whether he was thinking of her sore feet or just uncomfortable with the idea of the boss' immaculate assistant helping him with such a messy job was unclear.

But the idea appealed. Virginia might have spent two days in the wilderness, but she'd spent three before that cooped up in a dank little room, and fresh air sounded very good indeed. "Great idea." She turned for the deck. "I'll grab a chair and come keep you company."

Happy insisted on carrying the chair, along with the big thermos of iced tea, but she held onto her sketchbook and her sun hat. He settled her next to the back driveway turrnaround and brought out the limo to start with, looking odd to her eyes in shorts and a t-shirt as he set up soap and wax and the hose. But he was fun to sketch, and they chatted easily, wandering among topics as diverse as automobile maintenance and Greek philosophy.

She'd always been comfortable with Happy, Virginia reflected as she drew. They'd started with mutual respect when she'd been hired as Tony's PA, and that had deepened into the sort of casual friendship shared by colleagues, along with a good-humored conspiracy when it came to thwarting some of Tony's wilder foibles--or just getting him the rest he so often needed.

When Tony had been kidnapped, they'd waited together. Obie had been off running the company, and Rhodey trying to find Tony, but she and Happy had been left behind to hold the metaphorical fort. And hold it they had, offering each other the same silent sympathy, the same stubborn refusal to give up hope.

And when he'd been found-- She smiled, remembering. _A joy shared is a joy doubled, they say._ Theirs had been more exponential than that, a fountain of grins and hugs and scarce-admitted tears, triumphing in their impossible, pain-in-the-ass, deeply missed boss coming back to them at last.

Happy had expressed no opinion on Iron Man; Virginia had the sneaking suspicion that the bodyguard didn't approve, but that the man was quietly enamored of the armor. Of course, if she weren't so worried about Tony risking his neck every time he flew, she might have to admit to a bit of admiration herself; after all, she had long been a fan of sleek, high-speed metal.

But the price that came with the suit weighed too heavily against it, and she'd merely tightened her lips and worried.

She let her pencil wander idly; it sketched an outline of one of the suit's gauntlets, smoothly articulated fingers cradling power. And then she stared at it, wondering when she'd _noticed._

"Your arms are getting red," Happy observed, pausing in his polishing, and she shook off her reverie and reached for the sunscreen.

They ended up ordering in a disgustingly overloaded pizza, and watched two Westerns in a row in the library, which had an ordinary TV screen hanging on the wall; it felt too weird in the living room without Tony there as well. Afterwards Happy retreated to his chosen suite, once more reminding her that he was within earshot if she needed him, and Virginia just smiled back. As far as she knew, there was no way to enter Tony Stark's house without attracting Jarvis' notice; Happy's presence really _was_ for Tony's sake. And, it occurred to her belatedly, possibly for Happy's sake as well.

Despite the exercise and the sun and the lateness of the hour, Virginia found that she couldn't sleep. She lay curled up in the big bed, eyes open in the darkness, the house silent around her; it seemed far emptier without its master, as if something essential were gone. She frowned to herself, wondering why it mattered; she'd spent time alone in the house before, when he was off on a mission, but it had never felt so lonely. Even the knowledge of Happy across the hall was not enough to stir the hollow feeling.

Finally she gave up, climbing out of bed and pulling off the comforter, and padding across the carpet to open the balcony door. She'd chosen a room above Tony's big bedroom, one that overlooked the ocean; the breeze that came off it ruffled her short hair and filled the room with the scent of salt.

There was a pair of chairs here, placed for the best view, and as her eyes adjusted she could make out the darkness of the ocean and the star-spattered expanse of sky, though without the moon there were no details. She sat down in one of the chairs, wrapping the comforter around her and making note of the slightly musty smell of the furniture; the guest rooms weren't often used, and apparently she needed to be more proactive in scheduling them for upkeep.

The stars were splendid. One of the blessings of Tony's location was the lack of ambient light; on the other side of the house one could see the glow from Malibu, but on the ocean side it was imperceptible on a clear night. Virginia tilted her head back and watched them.

Somewhere in the back of her mind was the stale smell of an enclosed room, and the mutter of voices through a metal duct. There was the cruel pull as a knife sawed off her hair, and the sick feeling of a drug hangover. There was utter helplessness, and terror, and a burning anger.

She didn't want to think about it. Virginia let her mind skid away from the memories, and kept her thoughts circling around mundanities like the seat cushions, and Tony's wardrobe, and the quarterly billing cycle.

When sleep came, it was uneasy and shallow, but at least the memories were banished for a while.

* * *

The Tokyo reactor was in what Tony's mother would have referred to as a "right state", but it wasn't beyond saving. Tony went straight to the plant as soon as his plane touched down, despite the early-morning hour; it was very difficult to make an arc reactor actually blow up unless one knew exactly what to do, but they did take a tremendous amount of power to restart, and he didn't want the thing to go into shut-down mode if it could be avoided. _Plus the extended loss of power to the factories--_

They had backup generators, of course, but those cost money to run and weren't nearly as clean or efficient as the reactor. Tony and the plant's engineers went to work right away in a flurry of blueprints and power readouts as he tried to figure out exactly what had been done to the thing to make it behave so oddly.

But underneath the equations and the babble of High Engineering was always Pepper. Tony kept her in the back of his thoughts, wrapped in a concern that hovered on the brink of worry. She seemed to be doing well, but there was a tension in her that hadn't dissipated, and he wondered how long she was going to pretend that her abduction hadn't affected her.

 _Kettle calling Potts,_ he thought absently, debating energy fluctuations with two engineers and a tech. _It's not like you went right out and talked to a shrink either._ And he'd been through a lot more than he suspected Pepper had, though certainly that didn't make her experience any less harrowing.

But he'd found his own form of therapy, in a way, and he'd never _ignored_ those three months. Pepper's eagerness to dive right back into work as if nothing had happened made him deeply uneasy.

Eventually they had the reactor stabilized. Tony told his driver to take him to the Stark penthouse, and watched dawn come up over the city from its cool, luxurious sterility, sipping at a Scotch and wondering what Pepper was doing just then.

 _Probably griping that she's bored._ The corner of his mouth turned up in tired amusement. He'd met others who enjoyed overwork the way she did, but they were usually lab-bound scientists, too busy with research to look around. Pepper did as much work as any and managed to maintain a life as well, or at least the appearance of one.

Tony leaned back in the recliner and crossed his legs, savoring the alcohol as it slid over his tongue and trying to relax enough to sleep. He'd placed a quick call after the video-conference, and the memory of Hogan's voice slid through his mind. _Sir, I'm not--I--I failed._

He'd never associated nobility with Happy, but that didn't matter. _We've been over this. Loss to a superior force isn't failure, and I need you to keep an eye on her._ For Tony's own sanity, but he didn't mention that.

For a long moment the connection had been silent, and then there were just two low words. _All right._

But in them was a strength that had been missing from Happy's voice ever since Pepper had been taken, and that was enough to satisfy Tony.

He wanted to call her, just to listen to her voice. But while there had been times in the past when he'd asked for a bedtime story--and even a few when she'd indulged him--Tony didn't want to disturb her right then. He had a fairly strong feeling that his behavior toward Pepper since her return was an additional stressor; she could probably use a day or two without having to deal with him.

 _I can't help it._ The wistful hunger he'd carried for so long had strengthened with the possibility of loss; something in him _needed_ to touch her every so often, to hear her voice and to know that she was safe.

Whether his attentions were welcome or not was an unanswered question; she hadn't told him to back off, anyway, and Tony took hope from that. If she told him to stop, he would, as much as it would hurt.

_Please don't, Pepper._

In the end he called up an old voice mail, Pepper calmly reading out a long list of instructions and reminders, and set it to loop at a low volume. He fell asleep to a gently stern lecture on the importance of legible signatures.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cincoflex and Laura27md, betas extraordinare!
> 
> Note: I do realize that the flight time between Japan and California is longer than described, but come on, this is Tony Stark. He probably designed a faster engine for his planes in his SLEEP.
> 
> Also, regarding Pepper and Happy--really, folks, don't you TRUST me? *grin*

"I dunno." Happy looked doubtful. Virginia sighed in mild exasperation.

"I'm getting cabin fever, Happy. I understand why Tony wants you keeping an eye on me, but really, the third guy probably crossed into Mexico before I even made it home." She kept her voice level; two days of doing nothing in Tony's house had her almost stir-crazy, but she didn't want to sound irrational. In fact, Happy had no power to keep her inside, but she didn't want to hurt him by pointing that out, or get him in trouble with Tony. "Besides, I really need to pick up a few things from home."

Happy squinted, and then surprised her with a sudden grin. "I could use some fresh air."

He insisted on taking the limo, but Virginia insisted on sitting up front, and they chatted easily on the way to her apartment. It was a lovely day, sunny but with a nice breeze, and she threw open her balcony doors when she got home to let some air in.

Happy sat on her couch and watched ESPN as she watered her plants and did a few small chores. She packed some more clothing to take back to Tony's place and emptied the dish drainer, regarding the broiler pan thoughtfully as she put it away.

_You miss him._

It wasn't really a surprise.

"Lunch is on me," she told Happy firmly as the limo pulled out of the garage, and he chuckled.

"I never argue when a pretty lady offers me food," he said. "As long as it's not salad."

"Red meat only," Virginia promised solemnly. "El Rosales okay?"

"Sounds good." Happy slid the limo expertly into traffic; the restaurant wasn't far, and within minutes they were being seated at a window table, with Virginia considering a margarita mostly out of pique. Normally she didn't drink alcohol before evening, but since she had nothing to _do_...

In the end, though, she settled on hibiscus agua fresca, and Happy chose iced tea, which didn't surprise her; he was on duty, lunch or no.

They placed their orders, and she settled in to enjoy the chips and salsa already on the table. She had just begun pushing the chip basket towards Happy when she saw his smile fade to a frown as he looked past her shoulder and out the window.

In the time it took her to draw a quick breath, he'd flipped the table onto its side, sending salsa, silverware, and bud vase flying, and was hurtling across the resultant space. Virginia heard a terrifying _crack_ and the musical crash of glass, and didn't resist when he engulfed her, rolling them both to the ground regardless of chairs and other diners and pressing her flat to the floor with his own body. Shouts mixed with screams overhead; there was a sharp pattering like rain, and the squeal of tires.

The screaming continued. Virginia both felt and heard Happy huff, but he didn't move, and she held still despite the pain of his weight and the corner of her purse digging into her hip. This sort of thing had happened once before, someone in Sri Lanka taking a shot at Tony, and the safest thing to do was to hold still.

_Except Tony's not here._

It seemed an endless few seconds before Happy shifted, carefully lifting himself on his hands, but he was still hovering protectively over her and Virginia didn't do more than roll half-over to look up at him. He was scanning their surroundings, face set and scowling; the screaming, a woman's, trailed off, but the babble of excited voices didn't let up.

Happy nodded down at her. "Gun," he said softly, and Virginia reached up to slide his pistol from his shoulder holster, flicking off the safety. She wasn't the best shot in the world, but she knew how to handle a handgun; and Happy had no backup to provide cover. He wanted her armed.

With a quick heave he flipped over, ending in a crouch and almost immediately falling out of it to land on his backside with a hiss. Virginia scanned the crowd around them, but she could spot no immediate threat. The window they'd sat next to was _gone,_ and shattered safety glass was everywhere like a sudden icefall; the restaurant was crowded with diners sitting and standing, and more people were gathering on the sidewalk. In the distance, a siren wailed.

She glanced back at Hogan, and the crimson smear on the floor made her heart lurch. _"Happy!"_

He looked back at her, grimacing, and Virginia ignored protocol and safety and all good sense and scooted over to him on her knees, shoving the gun into his hand with her eyes fixed on the rapidly growing puddle under his leg. "Dammit!"

Happy coughed a laugh, looking rapidly around. "Through and through." He relaxed slightly. "They're gone--"

His pants leg was soaked from hip to knee. She looked up at the people crowding around, ignoring the stares and the excited babble. "We need an ambulance _now!_ "

"Cops are coming," someone said, but her attention was back on the hole in Happy's leg. Virginia grabbed a couple of napkins from the nearest table and pressed them against the topmost wound; Happy grunted, but she put her weight into it, because though his blood wasn't spraying, it was leaking out _far_ too fast for comfort.

"Lie down," she snapped at him. Happy blinked at her, which was frightening--he was _never_ slow on the uptake--but after a second or so he holstered the gun and lay back slowly.

The siren got louder, and Virginia heard more tires screeching, but her attention was all on the rapidly-soaking napkins under her hands. Uniformed legs surrounded them, crisp orders were passed, but she kept her eyes on Happy's leg, trying to will the blood to slow.

"Think I'll get a bonus out of this?" he asked, his voice low, and she sniffed.

"You'd damn well better. I'll forge it myself if I have to." The banter was automatic, and she was grateful, because it kept her from screaming. _That was meant for me_ was overlain by frantic fear for Happy, whose face was greenish-white despite the change in elevation. "Did you hear how many shots?"

"Two, maybe three." She'd only heard one. Happy's eyes slid closed, and Virginia shoved brutally at his wound to make him open them again. "Uhgh. Boss was right about you."

"What do you mean?" _Keep talking,_ she begged silently. _Stay awake--_

"Rough when you're scared." The words were a mumble. Virginia felt her throat close, but then gloved hands pushed her aside and two bodies nudged her quickly back.

"We have him, ma'am, just let us work." The EMTs' whole focus was on Happy, and it took Virginia a moment to gather her thoughts enough to shuffle back and stand up. Her hands were slick with blood, and she could feel her pants sticking to her knees where more blood had soaked in.

"Ma'am? Ms. Potts?" The voice was polite, and Virginia had to blink twice before she could focus on the cop standing next to her, a young man no more than her height with a mustache that seemed to be trying to make up for his lack of years. But his eyes were calm, and the hand under her elbow was polite. "Come this way, please."

It didn't surprise her that he knew her name; she wasn't quite the public figure that Tony was, but Virginia knew she had been all over the news lately. She let the cop lead her a few steps away, but balked at going too far from Happy. "The shooter--"

"Gone," the young man said, nodding at another cop nearby. "We have patrols out looking now, with more once we get a description. There were plenty of witnesses, anyway."

She swallowed hard, turning to look back, but she couldn't see much of Happy past the busy EMTs. "Was--was anyone else hurt?"

The cop shook his head. Virginia felt something wet touch her hands, and looked down in startlement to see the other cop--a woman--wiping at the blood with a disposable cloth. "Are you injured, Ms. Potts?" the young man asked.

Virginia shook her own head, distracted. "I...who was it?"

She didn't know why she was asking the question. The restrained menace of Three seemed to linger in the back of her mind, spilling forth like a poison. _He's trying to shut me up._

"We don't know yet, ma'am. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

The woman finished with her hands and gave Virginia a gentle smile. "We can take you down to the station, and you can call--"

 _"No."_ Virginia pulled her hands away, resisting the urge of the tug on her elbow. "I'm not leaving Mr. Hogan."

The name sprang to her lips automatically; she felt herself shifting into her professional mode, as if all this had to do with Tony and she was just the manager behind the scenes. "I'll answer questions, but it'll have to be at the hospital."

The officer hesitated, glancing back at the EMTs, then nodded. "I'll drive you, ma'am."

Past his shoulder she saw a gurney being lifted up on its wheels like a cot on stilts, Happy's form bulking dark against the white covering. She took a step forward, but before she could speak the whole thing was wheeled rapidly out towards the waiting ambulance.

Virginia took a deep breath, closed her hands into careful fists, and nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

It was the longest five hours he could remember spending. Tony paced around the cabin of his plane, unable to sit still, cursing every moment they weren't flying fast enough and cursing himself more for not taking Pepper's call. He'd been absorbed in retuning the reactor, and it had been _two hours_ before he'd even picked up the phone to check his messages.

Someone had tried to kill her--damn near _succeeded_ \--and he was half the world away.

He'd heard the trembling fear in her voice despite her calm phrases--fear for Happy--and that fear was an additional burden on his own heart. Tony hadn't been able to get a hold of her since, and he was deeply afraid that it meant she was still at the hospital, where cellphones were not permitted. _Is he even still alive?_

Tony knew Happy would give his life for Pepper, hefty paycheck or not, but he found himself praying that the sacrifice hadn't been necessary. The idea of life without that silent presence at his shoulder was painful.

He even found himself wishing for his armor, as impractical as that was; putting it on without the 'bots' help might be possible, but it would require two or three friends and an assortment of tools, as well as at least a couple of hours of free time. _But the flight time would be less._

By the time they began to land he was ready to get out and _push_ , but fortunately for Tony's temper his arrangements were in place. A car was waiting on the tarmac when he climbed out of the plane, with a Customs agent standing by, and Tony barely had to pause for the formalities. He dismissed the driver and swung in behind the wheel, and as he made his way out of the airport grounds and dove into traffic he wondered grimly what Happy had done to deserve ending up in the same hospital twice in such rapid succession.

_Nothing. That's the problem._

Pepper had left instructions at the hospital's front desk, so no one argued when Tony asked for Happy's location. He took the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator, and mounted them two at a time to reach the ICU waiting lounge. The room was anonymously well-appointed, only the odor of antiseptic marking it as belonging to a hospital rather than a hotel, but Tony hardly noticed; all his attention was immediately fixed on the slender figure huddled up in a low armchair.

His temper, already precarious with guilt, tipped towards fury at the sight of Agent Donovan sitting in the next chair, his dark head bent over hers. The relieved _Pepper_ came out harsher. "Ms. Potts."

Pepper looked up, and the relief on her face made him ashamed. She rose up hastily, and Tony closed the distance between them and wrapped protective arms around her, glorying for a guilty second in the fact that she was seeking him out. But her hard hug was brief, and then she was drawing back. "He's out of surgery," she reported. "I have power of attorney for him here, so they let me see him, but he's still under."

The news, welcome as it was, made him briefly dizzy. Tony let his hand linger at her waist, needing the additional touch. "Simple gunshot, right?"

Pepper nodded. "It nicked an artery, but didn't hit bone. They had to transfuse him." She shuddered. "He almost bled to death."

He bit back horror at the thought, and reached for confidence. "He'll be fine then. I'll probably have to lock him up to take sick leave." Tony gave her a cockeyed look. "Like someone else I could mention."

Her laugh was hardly more than a sputter, but it made her eyes light for a moment, and that was enough. "Well." She sobered. "We're pretty sure that it was...was Three who was shooting."

Pepper gestured at Donovan, who had risen to stand by his chair, regarding them both with a coolly professional gaze. His voice was level. "Mr. Stark."

Tony returned a short nod. The hostilities would have to wait; Pepper's safety took precedence. "So why haven't you caught this asshole yet?"

All right, _most_ of the hostilities.

The agent's mouth twisted, and it was clear that at least half the annoyance belonged to the situation rather than Tony. "Oddly enough, because he's not acting like a professional."

That, Tony understood. It was one of the small weirdnesses of tactics: a tyro could gain an advantage through sheer ignorance, if the opponent was expecting a smarter move. "You think he's winging it?"

"It would seem so." Donovan rubbed a hand over his short beard, showing a trace of weariness. "We expected him to head for the border and try to get out of reach."

Beside him, Pepper shivered, and Tony realized that she hadn't moved away, that his hand was still resting on the small of her back. He let the _I told you so_ fall away; _impolitic_ didn't even begin to describe how that would sound. "So what have you got?"

The agent grimaced. "Varying eyewitness descriptions of the vehicle, but no clear picture of the shooter or the driver. Someone did get half the license plate, though, and my team is checking for video surveillance."

"Happy saw something," Pepper put in, her voice betraying strain. "But I didn't."

"We'll be talking to Mr. Hogan as soon as he's able for it," Donovan said, bending his head slightly at Tony's inhale. "We won't stress him, Mr. Stark. My team is well aware of the limitations of someone who's been wounded."

Tony had no doubt that they were, but resolved to have a hand in the questioning if at all possible. Happy would probably stress _himself_ in an effort to get across all the information he could. He opened his mouth, but again the agent got in first. "The best place right now for Ms. Potts is a safe house. We can provide escort as soon as she's ready to--"

"I'm _not_ leaving until Happy wakes up," Pepper burst out angrily. "And--"

Tony stepped away from her, aware that remaining close might betray him into a more physical display of protectiveness than anyone was ready for, and glared at Donovan. "My house has tighter security than anything the FBI can provide."

"Except that Ms. Potts was tracked from there," the agent pointed out smoothly. "Will you keep her a prisoner until this man is found?"

Pepper drew herself up. "I won't hide," she shot back. "He's not going to run my life."

Donovan arched a brow. "That's all very well, but what happens when he comes after you again? Are you willing to risk an innocent getting in the way?"

 _Low blow,_ Tony thought furiously as Pepper went pale, and kept his voice even. "I can get more security in here within the hour."

She shook her head distractedly. "No--who, Tony? Jorge and Eunice? Tristan? I can't put them at risk either--"

"A private firm, then," Tony countered; there was no one on the SI headquarters security roster that Pepper didn't at least know by name. "Professionals. They'd have body armor--"

Her eyes flashed. "Body armor wouldn't have helped Happy!" Pepper put a hand to her forehead, and Tony could see the exhaustion dragging her down. "I could just go away, somewhere where no one knows me..."

He fought back panic at the idea of her _leaving_ him, and forced himself to think. And the solution fell into place, as easily as a coin into a slot. "Yes. I've got just the place."

Pepper looked at him, and he could see the argument forming, so he reached out and took her hands gently in his, noting for the first time the scrapes along her forearms. "Potts. Trust me, will you? Let me handle it."

"Tony, I--" Her forehead was creased, the way it got when she had a headache, and he made a mental note to find some analgesics.

"Ms. Potts," Donovan began, but before he could go on a throat cleared behind them, and Tony turned with Pepper to see a nurse in the doorway.

"Harold Hogan's family?" the woman said, eyes flicking over all of them.

Tony released one of Pepper's hands but kept the other. "All but blood," he confirmed, and she smiled dryly.

"He's awake. You can visit for five minutes, if you keep your voices down."

Pepper's shoulders straightened, and she strode towards the nurse with a fair approximation of her usual confidence. Tony paced her until Donovan's voice reached his ears. "A word, Mr. Stark?"

He let Pepper's hand go, and nodded her on when she glanced back, waiting until she was out of earshot before turning. "Special Agent?"

"I'm sure you remember my saying that there is no room for amateurs in this kind of situation," Donovan said quietly.

Tony regarded him sardonically. "There were two attempts made on my father's life before I was even born," he said. "A car bomb almost took out him _and_ my mom when I was three. I've had bodyguards since before I could walk. And last year people tried to kill me, oh, five or six times." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "And Stark Industries has an entire division specializing in personal protection, for which I've designed at least forty prototypes, to say nothing of Iron Man. I may not be a team player, Agent Donovan, but I'm not an amateur."

Donovan regarded him for a long, assessing moment. The man's eyes were so deep a black as to be unreadable, but Tony saw something shift in him, and figured he'd passed the test.

"It's highly irregular," Donovan said at last, "but I'm inclined to make a field judgment and let you take care of Ms. Potts' security. If only because an uncooperative witness is her own worst enemy."

Tony let the conditional pass. "Trust me, where we're going he'll never find her." He jerked his chin at the agent. "Which reminds me, once we leave the hospital she will be incommunicado. I'm not bringing her back until this guy _is_ caught. So if you have any more questions, ask them soon."

"I'll do that." Donovan's expression was irony itself, but Tony had no time for it. Happy was waiting.

* * *

Happy didn't _look_ awake when Virginia stepped past the drawn-back curtain, but when she brushed her fingertips cautiously across the back of his hand his eyes opened, focusing blearily on her. She smiled, her own eyes prickling. "Hi."

The big man's lips twitched under the oxygen cannula, and he turned his hand over. Virginia engulfed it with both of hers. "Y'okay?" he mumbled.

She had to laugh, just a breath's worth. "Thanks to you."

Happy smiled tiredly, and she could see the amusement. "Just doin' my job."

That made the tears spill over, and Virginia wiped them hastily away. This was by no means the first time she'd encountered violence in Tony's employ, and she had been shielded from harm by other bodyguards as well as Happy in the past; but none of them had nearly died protecting her. The squeeze of his fingers on hers, though, told her he understood.

"Bonus," she retorted. "I can do his signature perfectly--"

"I damn well hope you can," Tony said softly, coming up beside her, and she felt the warmth of his hand settle on the small of her back again. It was surprisingly comforting. "But you won't have to."

Hogan stirred, sobering. "Sir--"

Tony shook his head, and Virginia felt something passing between them, inaudible but tangible. Whatever it was, it made Happy relax again.

Tony reached out and gripped his shoulder lightly. "The FBI is going to come by and ask you some questions when you feel better. I know they're asses but..."

Happy's mouth curled up slightly. "You keep her safe, right?" His voice was slurring, and Virginia saw his eyes start to slide shut.

"Promise," Tony told him, squeezing his shoulder before letting go.

Happy nodded, one jerk of his head, and his eyes didn't open. Virginia leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Get better," she told him sternly, and his fingers tightened on hers before going lax.

They were silent passing the other patients in the ICU, but as soon as they were out Tony spoke. "I need a phone, Potts."

"There's a bank of them in the lobby," she replied automatically, but he shook his head again.

"Something not so close to the front doors." His thumb stroked her spine, and Virginia stepped away from his touch, remembering belatedly that it wasn't really appropriate under the circumstances.

"I think there's a booth in the waiting room." Her own hands felt empty without her BlackBerry, but then they'd felt empty for days now.

"Good. I need to call Rhodey."

Agent Donovan was still in the waiting room when they reached it, scribbling in a small notebook, but he rose when they came in. "Mr. Hogan is doing well?"

Virginia managed to smile at him for caring. "Yes. Thank you."

Tony shot the man a glance of dislike and took himself over to the little desk that held the phone. Virginia sighed, but Donovan didn't appear to be taking offense at her boss' rudeness. His attention was all on her, a dark and hooded gaze that nevertheless held compassion. "I realize you're tired, Ms. Potts, but I do have a few more questions if I may."

She let out a breath and sat down, opening her hands in a resigned gesture. "We're here. We might as well."

The questions were more of the same--descriptions of her captors, details she might have forgotten, anything she'd noticed from the shooting. Donovan sat opposite her, clearly trying not to loom, and she answered as best she could, but there was only so much she could say. "I truly don't remember anything more," she said finally, biting her lip at the tremble in her voice. "I didn't--"

Virginia broke off, rubbing her aching forehead, and Donovan sighed. "I'm sorry, Ms. Potts. I know this is difficult."

 _Difficult?_ she wanted to scream at him. _I've had the week from_ _ **hell**_ _and just seen one of my best friends get_ _ **shot,**_ _and you're pretending it's just_ _ **difficult**_ _?_ But that wasn't fair. To him, it was probably routine. Donovan's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward slightly.

"If you would rather not remain under Mr. Stark's protection, we can still offer you the safe house," he said quietly. "Despite his claims, the FBI does have considerable resources at its command."

She was so _tired._ A safe house, far away from everyone she knew, actually sounded good; no friends to endanger, no Tony to confuse her. But it would mean cutting herself off from updates on Happy's condition, possibly indefinitely. And--

 _I can't do that to him._ Tony might be playing the capable, incisive businessman just now, but she hadn't forgotten-- _couldn't_ forget--the desperation she'd seen in him when she returned, or the feel of his gasping breath against her neck as he'd wept. Her going into hiding now would be too much for him.

"I--thank you, Agent Donovan. But I'd go crazy with nothing to do." The smaller truth was good enough as an excuse. "At least with Tony looking after him will keep me busy."

The intent gaze softened. "I'm sure it will." His smile was austere but genuine. "Though you might try letting him take care of you for a little while; you've been through some rough times."

Virginia shook her head in lieu of a reply. Donovan stood, and automatically she rose too; he reached into his pocket and handed her a business card. "If you think of anything else, or change your mind...the line is monitored twenty-four-seven."

"Thank you," she said, to be polite, and put it into her purse. Her mood shifts were starting to scare her; she wanted to blame it on adrenaline, but it felt deeper somehow, as if something fundamental was beginning to crumble. She returned Donovan's murmured farewell, turning as he slipped gracefully past her, and was startled to see Tony watching her from the desk chair. His expression was somber.

"Was Rhodey in?" Virginia asked, more out of politeness than curiosity. Tony rose.

"Yeah. He's going to come in and keep an eye on Happy for us. I want someone on his side when the Feds question him."

"He's not a _suspect_ , Tony!" she protested, annoyed. Tony's quick smile was without amusement.

"He'll wear himself out trying to help, you know he will. Rhodey will make sure he doesn't push himself too hard."

"You could do it yourself," Virginia pointed out.

Tony gestured towards the door. "I'm going to be with you."

She thought about arguing, but couldn't summon the energy. "Where are we going?" She let herself be herded out of the room, a neat trick since Tony was carefully _not_ touching her now.

"One of my overseas properties. I don't think we'll have to be there too long; the FBI may be pricks, but in this case they've got more reach." He looked her over, face hardening. "You need a change of clothes."

"If we're going overseas I'll need my _passport,_ " Virginia retorted. "At least."

"It's being handled." Tony glanced at his watch, then halted next to a map of the hospital displayed on the corridor wall. "Hold on a sec."

For no reason that she could discern, Virginia felt tears rising again, and set her teeth to force them back. She wanted a shower desperately, to go with the clean clothes; Happy's blood had dried into her pants, making them stiff and strange against her shins. Her headache was getting worse.

Tony finished consulting the map, and eyed her sharply. "Can you hold on a few more minutes, Potts? All we need to do is get downstairs."

She scraped together control, and lifted her chin, reminding herself that she had handled multinational crises and Tony insulting heads of state without losing it. "I'll be fine."

His grin was sudden. "That's the spirit. Come on, stairwell."

They went down three flights on stairs not really meant for visitors, to judge by their bare utility. At the bottom waited a tall man in a security guard's uniform, whose glance took them both in swiftly. "Your car's here, Mr. Stark," he said.

"Good. Lead on." Tony gestured Virginia through the door ahead of him, after the guard, and they emerged into a receiving area, which currently held only two other guards, one seated at a desk. She looked up at their escort and nodded, then returned her attention to the monitor on the desk, and Virginia guessed that she was watching a feed from a video camera.

Their guard pressed a button on the wall, and the rolling door on the receiving dock rattled noisily upward. Cool night air swept in, and she breathed it in, suddenly stifled by the hospital atmosphere.

Just beyond the dock waited a late-model luxury sedan, dark and anonymous. Tony trotted down the dock's steps and opened the door for her, and she slid into the plush interior, recognizing Tristan at the wheel. The Stark Industries security officer, small and mild and a crack shot, gave her half a smile in the rear-view mirror. "Mr. Hogan okay?"

"He will be." Virginia settled back as Tony closed the door, and reached for her seatbelt, wishing that they could roll down the windows. The door opposite hers opened, and Tony ducked inside.

"Straight to the airport," he instructed. "And keep your eyes open. If you see anything suspicious, anything at all, speak up."

"Yessir." Tristan started the engine.

The ride to the airport was brief and uneventful. Virginia tilted her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, trying to regulate her breathing and praying that Tony wouldn't start a conversation. Mercifully, he didn't, just exchanging the occasional quiet word with Tristan as they slipped through traffic.

It felt like she was abandoning Happy. Virginia knew it wasn't true; barring complications, he was going to be fine, and would probably be out of the ICU in the morning. _And you can't hang around the hospital until he's ready to go home._ Not to mention putting others there in danger, should Three track her down.

Her eyes flew open at a sudden thought. "Tony, what about Happy? He may have seen the shooter. If Three goes after him..."

Tony's face was hard to see in the darkness; the tinted windows kept out most of the glow from the streetlights. But he reached out and laid a hand over hers for a moment. "He'll be fine. Hospital security and the local cops both know that he may be at risk, and as soon as he's released Rhodey'll take him down to the house in Hawaii. He can get a tan while he heals up."

The news was reassuring; Tony's estate on Kauai was not only an extremely private compound but was under his mother's maiden name. Very few people even knew he owned property there. "Is that where we're going?"

"Nope." Tony leaned forward as Tristan took the airport exit. "Head back to the commercial entrance, please."

Within twenty minutes they were climbing up the stairs into one of Stark Industries' executive jets, the engines already whining up into readiness. Virginia automatically sat down and strapped herself in, ignoring the alarmed glance of the steward at her appearance. Tony spoke briefly to the man, too low for her to make out, then headed up front to talk to the pilot as well; by the time he came back they were already taxiing to the runway.

Normally Virginia had nothing to do with the plane's more private amenities; she had been known to nap on the couch on occasion during a long flight or a late one, but the tiny bedroom and even tinier shower at the back of the plane were strictly Tony's territory. But once they reached cruising altitude, she accepted Tony's direction without argument and went back to find the bag that had been packed for her.

It was her own suitcase from Tony's house, containing two changes of clothes and her toiletries, and it was so welcome a sight that Virginia didn't even wonder too much about who had done the packing for her. She had to make the shower quick--the water supply on board was limited--but it was a relief to wash off the tacky remains of Happy's blood.

When she emerged from the bedroom, Tony looked up from his seat. "You look better."

She shrugged. He pointed at the couch, and rose. "Sit down. Please."

More baffled than annoyed, Virginia complied. Tony picked something up from the table behind him and surprised her by kneeling in front of her, tossing the box onto the couch. It was a first-aid kit, and he reached out and took her wrists carefully, turning her arms over to examine the scrapes left by Happy's tackle.

His face was very still, and she found herself so fascinated by that control, by the absolute lack of his usual humor, that she let him dab antiseptic cream on the deepest scrape and fasten a bandage over it. When he was satisfied with her arms, he sank back onto his heels and lifted her feet onto his thighs, peeling off her socks to examine her healing cuts. She thought about protesting, just on principle, but decided again that it would take too much effort.

What he saw seemed to satisfy him. Tony replaced her socks, somewhat awkwardly, and looked up at her. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

She had a bruise on her hip and two on her knees from the landing, but she wasn't about to mention them and there was nothing he could do for them anyway, so Virginia shook her head.

Tony nodded once, and pushed himself to his feet. "You need to eat something," he said firmly. "I know Jacques has some soup--"

The plane dipped suddenly as it hit an air pocket, and Tony staggered. Automatically she reached up and pulled him down beside her, bracing them both as the plane shook and rattled. Then the ride smoothed out again.

"Or maybe just sandwiches." Tony's eyes were wide, fixed on her face, and he seemed to be waiting, but Virginia didn't know for what. Then he blinked, and looked away. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said, sheer habit.

The turbulence continued, off and on, and Virginia forced down half a sandwich but left the rest despite Tony's cocked brow and the steward's clucking. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten, but she just wasn't hungry.

"Do you want a drink?" Tony asked her softly when Jacques had taken their plates. "A little relaxation couldn't hurt, Potts."

She shook her head. She was so tired that it felt like her eyes were crossing, but the last thing she wanted was something that would erode her barriers here, where Tony would be no further than a few yards away. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not, but we'll let that pass," he retorted, and waved Jacques off. It was odd for him to refuse alcohol, but Virginia was too exhausted to consider it.

The turbulence, while not dangerous, was too active for her to lie down on the couch without a seatbelt. She put her head back in her chair instead, and closed her aching eyes.

Her sleep was shallow, unrestful. The bumping of the plane kept pulling her awake, and it seemed like she never quite got away from the roar of the engines or Tony's low voice. But Virginia couldn't force herself to stay awake, either; she rose and sank on an uneasy tide, dreaming flashing dreams of shopping for jewelry on an endless street or trying to make out words in a murmuring cacophony.

There were no nightmares, at least.

By the time they landed, it was dawn, and she stumbled out of the plane still dazed with exhaustion; the cold morning air seemed just another aspect of dream, and did nothing to wake her. Tony bundled her into another car, and it was five minutes before she could organize her thoughts enough to frame the question. "Was coming all the way to Japan really necessary?"

Tony didn't look at her; he was watching the scenery pass by outside the limousine. "Dunno. But whoever was shooting at you will have a very hard time tracking you this far."

"Tony--" she protested. "All they'll have to do is look up where the plane went."

The corner of his mouth curled up, sardonic. "They can stake out the Tokyo apartment for a year if they want. We're going to Matsue."

* * *

Pepper was asleep again before they even hit the highway, and Tony was grateful. She didn't look so _wounded_ when she was sleeping; the desire to comfort her could be overridden by the need to let her rest. He thumbed off the limo's air conditioning and rode in silence, every so often glancing over at the figure curled up in the opposite corner. _Matsue is the perfect place for her to rest._

The city wasn't their exact target; there were Stark properties throughout the world, and one of them was a rather old estate on the shore of Lake Shinji, quiet and beautiful. Unlike many of his houses, this one Tony had purchased himself, with the early profits from his first patent; he'd been fifteen at the time, and in love with Japan.

Also unlike most of his properties, he had never invited anyone to the lakeside property, keeping it as an absolutely private refuge. He didn't visit often--there wasn't time--but it nonetheless boasted a small, full-time staff, holding the place ready for him whenever he needed it. Pepper had been there twice before, and he knew she admired the traditional building, which was furnished in classic Japanese style.

It was mid-morning by the time they reached the house, passing through first woods and then the well-tended gardens. The lake was just visible beyond another band of trees, but at that moment Tony had no interest in the water.

Yuu, the housekeeper, was waiting at the front door when Tony got out of the limo. Pepper didn't stir; he motioned the driver to open her door, and gathered her up, holding her close as he turned towards the house. At the sight, Yuu turned slightly and spoke to someone within, then stepped out of the way as Tony neared.

He nodded in response to her bow, unable to return it, and with her usual quick perception she skipped the formalities, merely leading him to the nearest of the two private rooms. One of the other staff was unrolling the futon, and Tony bent and laid Pepper carefully on the thick mattress.

Yuu ordered the man from the room with a soft word, and stood at the foot of the bed as Tony slid Pepper's shoes from her feet and pulled up the quilt to cover her. "Is she ill?" the housekeeper asked.

Tony straightened, suddenly aware of how tired _he_ was; it was an effort to find the right words in Japanese. "No. Just...hurt."

He grimaced, not knowing how to explain, but Yuu didn't ask. The sturdy woman, whose greying hair betrayed her age, looked down at Pepper for a moment. "We'll take care of her."

Tony smiled slightly. "That's why I brought her."

An hour later he was clean, full of soup and fruit, and dressed in a cotton yukata. He sat crosslegged against the doorframe of Pepper's room, sipping slowly from a cup of sake and watching the quilt-covered mound that was his sleeping assistant.

Jarvis had relayed messages from both Rhodey and Happy; the chauffeur was doing well and already complaining about having to stay in bed, and Rhodey would make sure that he got safely to Hawaii. The reactor in Tokyo was running green at the moment, though Tony did want to swing by and have another look at it soon. All his responsibilities were covered.

But despite his weariness, Tony couldn't bring himself to move. He knew he should go to bed and at least try to catch up on some of the sleep he'd been skipping, but he still felt like Pepper would disappear if he turned his back. It was irrational, but he couldn't _help_ it.

What he really wanted to do was climb up on the futon with Pepper and hold her, but her own reaction aside there was the staff to think about. Yuu's people did not gossip, but he didn't want to change their perception of Pepper.

So he sat, and listened to the birds singing in the garden outside her window, and watched. And never noticed when consciousness slid away.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laura27md made this possible; and especial thanks to Cincoflex this week for listening to me whine about plot.
> 
> This chapter is again illustrated by the fabulous Rabid Potato--see my site! Link is in my profile.

He was warm, but uncomfortable. Tony opened his eyes blearily, taking a moment to figure out that he was lying on the floor of his Matsue home, covered with a quilt but feeling the hardness of the wood beneath him. Grunting, he rubbed his eyes and tried to focus.

The futon was gone.

That brought him sharply awake, and Tony sat up, ignoring the aches. The room was empty, its polished floor a bare expanse; but along the far wall the futon cabinet was closed, and he realized that someone must have put the bed away, as was normal during the day.

_Where's Pepper?_

Judging by the angle of sunlight outside the window, it was past noon. Tony rubbed his face, wishing he'd brushed his teeth earlier, and climbed to his feet, ignoring the quilt and shaking out his yukata. The house was quiet, but it usually was; the staff was deliberately unintrusive, knowing that when he came here it was in search of peace. But when he stepped out into the short corridor, he saw one of the younger staff heading towards the kitchen.

"Where is Ms. Potts?" Tony said, pitching his voice to carry, and the man stopped, turning to bow.

"She is down by the lake," he replied, his tone equally quiet, and Tony nodded, relieved.

The man disappeared, and Tony went to get dressed. He really wanted to go straight out and find her, but the shore was rocky and the light cotton robe was not gear for scrambling in.

When he found her, Pepper was perched on a boulder, looking out across the wide expanse of Lake Shinji. The view was one reason Tony had chosen the antique estate; it was breathtakingly beautiful. Not unlike the woman who watched it, he thought as he scrunched across the narrow, pebbly beach. Pepper was wearing casual Western clothes from her suitcase and had her hair tucked behind her ears, and judging from the freckles that stood out on her nose she hadn't applied makeup; she looked lovely to his eyes, almost translucent in the sunlight, her knees pulled up and her arms wrapped around them like a little kid.

Tony knew she heard him coming, but it wasn't until he reached the foot of the boulder that she turned her head to look at him. And though her expression was serene, he somehow knew that she wasn't. "Good morning, Tony."

He wanted to climb up beside her, but there was only room for one. "Sleep well, Potts?"

She smiled just slightly. "You snore, you know."

It was so entirely not what he was expecting that Tony blinked. "Yeah, well, I don't usually sleep on the floor." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Did you have breakfast?"

Pepper's smile didn't waver. "Yes. You slept right through that too."

"It's been a long week." Tony bit his tongue as soon as he'd spoken. _Her week's been_ _ **worse**_ _, dumbass._

But she didn't seem to take offense. "You don't have to watch over me, Tony. I'm fine."

He let his brow climb skeptically, and her mouth turned down as she looked back over the water. "I'm sure you have things to do. Like that meeting in New York."

"Postponed." Like most of his schedule as soon as she'd disappeared. "I've got nothing on the table at the moment."

She didn't answer. Tony regarded her for a long moment, wondering dismally which one of them would outstubborn the other this time. Normally he would have infinite patience in this regard, but some things could only be put off so long, and more lives than his and hers depended on his actions. Sooner or later he would have to go back and deal with them.

_But here she's safe, at least._

Pepper didn't look back, and Tony knew he'd been dismissed. Frustrated, he retreated.

* * *

_You're being unfair._

Virginia watched the wind ruffle the water, thinking absently that she was going to burn again soon if she didn't get out of the sun, and tried to ignore her conscience, but it wouldn't be still. _He's trying to help. He's terrible at it, but he does care about you._

 _I know that,_ she retorted silently. She'd known it for quite some time, even before he'd flown off to Afghanistan and everything had changed. And even if she'd doubted it, the last days would have proved it.

But she didn't want to deal with his caring just now. Virginia could _feel_ it, an unseen pressure wrapping around her, but it was just one more danger at this point. Safe she might be, so far from Three, but her calm was dangling by a raveling thread, and she was frightened of what would happen if it snapped.

 _Get a grip,_ she told herself harshly. _Nothing really bad actually happened to you, unlike Happy. You weren't even seriously hurt. Where do you get off being so shook up?_

It was infuriating, feeling her emotions veering out of control. One of the requirements of being Tony Stark's personal assistant was the ability to master one's temper, to push past tiredness, frustration, boredom, exasperation. Even, on occasion, fear. And Virginia was past master at it; expression of emotion she used as a tool, but the feelings themselves were not permitted to influence her.

 _Well, mostly. Be honest._ Certainly there were times when things got the better of her, but those were usually extraordinary circumstances, and never lasted long.

But now she couldn't seem to get a grasp on anything. She ranged from a weird calm to instant anger, to bitter guilt, with a dash of panic thrown in every so often. She felt like she wanted to curl up and hide, to make all the world go away and stop rasping on her overstretched nerves.

 _You have responsibilities,_ she reminded herself. _They may be in abeyance at the moment, but they'll return soon enough._ And she wanted very much to have them back, to get back to _normal,_ when time to think about herself was scarce and she knew she was being of use.

And if things were normal, she wouldn't have to deal with Tony's new behavior. The strength of his caring was something she'd never seen in him before, ever. Certainly not directed at one of his casual lovers. And it frightened her, because...because...

 _Because it's what you want?_ Tony was easy to resist, at least for Virginia, because despite all his obvious attractions he had never offered her what she really needed. But this about-face was unprecedented, and she knew that the longer it lasted the less reason she had to doubt it.

She buried her hot face in her arms, feeling the sun burning on the nape of her neck where her shorn hair parted. And felt the insane, absurd desire to ask Tony for a hug.

She dawdled on her way back to the house, taking the time to appreciate it as she made her way up the beach path. It was built in a traditional style, with an overhanging, steeply pitched roof, though of tile rather than thatch. Wide windows looked out on the immaculate gardens, which were bursting with hydrangeas; past their blooming prime, now, but still green and vigorous. Virginia knew from her previous visits that a large pond lurked on the far side of the house, with a vegetable garden tucked against the kitchen, but she elected to go up the front path and inside. The interior space was cool and clean, most of the spaces large and empty; moveable screens were available to divide them if necessary.

There was little furniture, most of it traditional as well, though she knew that the kitchen was state-of-the-art and that there was a small room that held various electronics for Tony's use. There was a tub room with a wooden ofuro, but also tiny shower rooms off each bedroom that lacked no modernity.

Virginia paused in the little entranceway, savoring the cool stillness after the sun and wind. The house's existence had surprised her when she'd first seen it, but the more she got to know Tony the more sense it made. She liked the staff, who managed to be efficient and unobtrusive without a trace of obsequiousness, and usually found the house relaxing despite the way she always felt out of place in Western clothing. Which was silly, she reminded herself; Yuu and her people wore a plain uniform of white shirts and black trousers, at least when Tony was in residence.

Virginia walked slowly towards her room, lost in thought. There were garments available if she wanted to wear them. She'd seen Tony in traditional Japanese formal dress exactly once, and it had impressed her; he had been neither uncomfortable or clumsy in the elaborate clothing. But that had been years ago.

She had almost reached her room when she sensed the presence of someone else, and looked up to see Yuu standing nearby. Her grey hair was worn in an old-fashioned bob, and Virginia had never seen her look anything but calm. "It's time for supper," the housekeeper told her.

Virginia smiled back. "Thank you," she said carefully, knowing her own accent was atrocious, but Yuu never flinched.

Tony was waiting in the dining area when Virginia came in, her hands and face still damp from a quick wash. His glance was somber, despite a quick flicker of a smile. "You look better."

She shrugged at him, not knowing quite what to say. They knelt at the table to eat, passing dishes back and forth as if they did so every day. Virginia liked Japanese food, but had to quell a sudden peculiar longing for a pizza.

"We could get the boat out, if you like," Tony said eventually, referring to the sailboat kept under wraps down by the water. "Or go visit the hot springs."

Virginia gathered up a bit of rice on her chopsticks. "You don't have to amuse me, Tony."

He made a small gesture of frustration. "No, I suppose not, but honestly, Pepper, I'm only trying to help here."

Guilt surged. She hadn't asked to be whisked off to Asia to hide, but Tony had done so from the best possible motives, and she knew she could have refused if she had really wanted to. "I'm sorry," she muttered, staring down into her bowl, wondering why she felt so sullen.

His sigh was audible. "Stop it, Potts. I'm sorry too. You're entitled to...whatever."

Virginia set the bowl down and very carefully arranged her chopsticks across it in a perfect X. "Why don't you just tell me to suck it up? It's probably what I need to hear."

She expected more platitudes, but his chuckle made her look up in surprise. "Since when? Seriously, I need to make you take vacations more often if this is how you react to time off."

For some reason, the comment made her smile, a bubble of amusement lightening the heaviness in her chest. "The hot springs do sound nice."

Tony's face lit, relieving lines of tension, and Virginia realized with an odd lurch that he felt guilty too. Which was stupid, she told herself fiercely; none of the whole mess had been _his_ fault. She picked up her teacup. "Maybe tomorrow, okay? I just want to, I don't know, relax."

"Sure." He waved an expansive hand. "Anything you want, Potts; name it, it's yours. Except for work," he added hastily as she opened her mouth, and she laughed at him for what felt like the first time in ages, inexpressibly tickled by his sheepish grin.

The trouble, she realized after dinner, was that there really wasn't much to _do_ on the old estate. Any small chores were the province of the staff, who would be horrified if she offered to help; there was, oddly enough, no TV, and while the computer in the electronics room had Internet access, Tony was busy in there and she didn't want to interrupt him.

Virginia wandered idly around the house, taking in various details and reminding herself of how the place looked; its cool spareness pleased her senses. There were echoes of the house's decor in Tony's Malibu mansion--the clean lines, the empty spaces--and Virginia suspected that he was quite aware of the influence.

 _I wonder how long it would take to get some books delivered._ There were undoubtedly bookstores in Matsue proper, but she didn't know if they would carry anything in English, and her Japanese wasn't good enough to make reading it a pleasure.

But as she passed by the room opposite hers, the one where Tony slept-- _when he's not crashed on my floor, that is_ \--she spotted a couple of battered volumes in one of the low open cabinets, and curiosity tempted her inside. It didn't really feel like an invasion of privacy; she was in and out of his personal spaces all the time, and he'd just given her practically carte blanche for whatever she wanted, but Virginia wasn't expecting much when she crouched to look at the old paperbacks. _More military history? No--_

They were older than she was--older than Tony, in fact--cheap paperbacks dating from a time when new books could be had for less than a dollar. She smiled slowly as she flipped through them, reading titles out loud. " _Meet the Tiger, Enter the Saint, The Last Hero._ I should have guessed."

Tony as a fan of the gentleman thief was somehow fitting. _In his own way, he is a romantic._ Though he seemed to guard that secret as fiercely as his armor.

Straightening, she carried the books to her own room. _Definitely better than endless descriptions of battles._

* * *

In the morning, the cook served them a Western breakfast of eggs and bacon and juice. Tony regarded her across the table as he buttered toast. "I have to run an errand this morning, but it shouldn't take me more than a couple of hours. Want to hit the hot springs when I get back?"

Virginia sipped juice. "I could go by myself," she offered, but Tony smirked.

"You're not getting rid of me that easy, Potts. I happen to _like_ the smell of sulfur."

"Your rivals would say that was only natural," she riposted half-heartedly, and his smirk grew wider.

"I've reformed, remember?" He took a huge bite of toast and spoke around it. "Schedule me to rescue a puppy or something if you think the message isn't getting through."

She sniffed, and reached for the jam.

Tony left as soon as he'd finished. Virginia returned to her room to finish the book she'd fallen asleep over the night before, but it didn't take long, and she lay back on the cushion, feeling boredom loom again. _I hope they catch Three soon, or I'm going to go_ _ **nuts.**_

Finally she pushed herself to her feet, returned the book to Tony's room, and went to the little electronics room. Snapping on the big flatscreen, she picked up the phone and dialed. Within seconds, Jarvis' calm voice was reaching her ear. "Ms. Potts. It is good to hear from you."

Virginia smiled; she found she missed the AI when she was away for more than a few days. "It's good to talk to you too, Jarvis. How's Happy doing?"

"He is recovering nicely. The trip to Hawaii was against medical advice, but he is quite comfortable here."

She sat back in the one chair that the room boasted. "Is he awake? Put him on camera if he's up for it."

There was a pause, and then the screen flickered and cleared, showing Happy reclining on a chaise longue on a shaded deck, leg secured with cushions; he was wearing an uncharacteristically relaxed expression and an appallingly garish flowered shirt. Virginia's return smile felt stiff; he looked much better than the last time she'd seen him, but at the same time he was strangely diminished. The excellent camera caught even the faint pain-lines around his mouth. "Happy...how are you?"

"I'm doing better," he replied, giving her the gift of honesty. "It hurts to move much, but I took worse in my boxing days. No broken bones this time."

His smile was genuine, but Virginia felt her stomach twist at the thought. "Has the FBI talked to you?"

Happy shrugged. "Yeah. Couldn't tell 'em much; mostly all I saw was the gun."

She concealed her flinch. "Have I thanked you for saving my life?" She kept her voice just to one side of teasing.

His grin softened. "Twice at least." He rubbed his jaw with one hand. "How's the boss?"

"Off running an errand, he said. I shudder to think." The words were easy, cheerful, familiar; Happy snorted, clearly envisioning the possible weirdnesses Tony could get into. Or bring home.

"Hope it doesn't involve squid this time." Happy shifted gingerly on the chaise, and Virginia shuddered at the memory he'd invoked.

"Invertebrates of any kind not welcome," she agreed. "Ranks right up there with the noodle incident."

"Don't remind me." Happy sobered, catching her gaze from thousands of miles away. "Are _you_ okay?"

The gentle question went right through her like a knife of ice. _How can you ask me that, you nearly_ _ **died**_ _because of me--_

Virginia locked the surge of emotion down hard. "I'm fine," she said lightly. "Maybe still a little jetlagged."

"Well, you keep resting then," Happy replied. "You deserve it."

"Sure." Virginia lifted a hand to wave at him. "I'll see you soon."

"Mm-hmm." Happy gave her a casual salute, but the camera lingered on him, and she saw his shoulders sag with fatigue, saw his mouth turn down with pain.

The guilt was crushing. She jabbed at the screen's switch and stumbled out of the chair, barely remembering to put the phone down before she bolted out of the little room.

There was no one in the garden just then; sun filled its narrow paths with light, and Virginia hurried down the leafy corridors of hydrangeas, not even sure where she was going until she reached it--a bench under a huge old evergreen, invisible from the house. Her knees gave out and she sat, staring blankly at the high brick wall surrounding the estate.

 _Get a grip,_ she told herself. Then out loud. "Get a _grip--_ "

The tremble in her voice horrified her, and she clapped both hands over her mouth. She didn't lose control like this; she just _didn't._ Her job depended on her being in control at all times, on keeping her temper longer than anyone else, and this was just not _acceptable._

But the terrifying tide rising in her would not stop, and Virginia hunched over herself, throat knotting and her fingers pressing deeply into her own cheeks. _You got through all that without breaking down, you can't go to pieces_ _ **now**_ _\--_

It _hurt,_ forcing its way out, her stomach, her chest, her eyes. Guilt and fury mingled and boiled over, and she couldn't straighten, couldn't calm herself. All she could do was gasp, her mind replaying Happy's blood on the floor, Three's grip on her hair, the shivering fear of her first night in the woods--it all kaleidoscoped around and around, sharp shards cutting her deeper and deeper.

The hard grip on her forearms made her flinch, but it still took an effort to focus on Tony's voice, to blink her eyes clear enough to see him crouching in front of her with concern in every line of him. _"Pepper--_ "

She wanted to jerk away, to make him leave so he wouldn't see her collapse. But she couldn't even speak.

"Deep breath, Pepper, come on." He peered up at her, concern growing towards fear. "Pepper?"

The first sob seemed to tear her throat out, and she didn't even recognize her own voice in that low wail. The grip on her arms suddenly loosened, replaced by an equally hard hug, and she just...let...go.

There was nothing pretty about it. Virginia gasped and coughed and choked, chest and throat knotting in sharp spasms; she couldn't even think. There was only the pain and rage and guilt, an unstoppable avalanche pouring out of her; the bewildered furious hurt at the damage done to her, to Happy, even to Tony. She wanted to demand justice, but justice couldn't erase what had happened, couldn't close the wound in Happy's thigh or give her back the time stolen from her. She wanted to run away to where no one knew her, so that no one she loved would ever be hurt by her again.

She wanted to stop being afraid.

Tony tried to say something at first, but she couldn't make out the words, and after a while he stopped. Instead, he just cradled her against him, one hand sliding up into her hair and rubbing slowly against her scalp. Virginia pressed her forehead against his shoulder, letting the warm cloth and firm muscle absorb her weeping, and realizing dimly that just being _held_ felt incredibly good. She loathed being vulnerable, but somehow she knew that Tony, the Tony who had come back from his own hell, would not use it against her later.

It took her a long time to calm. By the time her breathing slowed, Virginia's eyes felt like sandpaper and her nose was stuffed, but Tony hadn't shifted, hadn't even stopped the gentle motion of his hand through her hair. He somehow managed to make her feel encompassed, wrapped up in his concern.

It was a very foreign feeling, and part of her wanted to bolt away from it, but the rest of her was just too _tired._ So she let herself keep leaning against him, and tried not to wonder what price she would eventually pay for the indulgence.

* * *

The position was very awkward, kneeling on the gravel walk, but Tony didn't move, even when his knees started to hurt. The woman in his arms frightened him, because Tony couldn't remember ever seeing Pepper so broken before. Even after her first week of working for him, even in the mad rush after his first Iron Man press conference, she had displayed a steel constitution and an unsettling calm. Her serenity did get frayed from time to time, and on occasion she even lost her temper, but he had never seen her actually _melt down_ before.

_But if anyone's entitled, she is._

And beyond the sheer bliss of actually holding her was the nascent pride that Pepper was _letting_ him--that she was actually taking refuge in him. It was one of the long list of things Tony had discovered he wanted from his personal assistant, and he wasn't about to take the honor lightly.

He'd spent far too much of his life taking things too lightly.

On top of it all, though, was worry. He'd tried asking her what was wrong, but he wasn't even sure she'd heard him. He knew it wasn't Happy; Jarvis would have contacted him instantly if Hogan had taken a turn for the worse. In the end, all he could do was wait her out.

Even after Pepper's tears were spent, she was still for so long that he would have thought her drowsing, but for the occasional shudder or hiccup that rippled through her. But at last she stirred, sniffling one last time and tensing. At the first hint of her pulling back, Tony tightened his arms, unwilling to lose her just yet.

"Tony--" Her voice was so hoarse as to be unrecognizable.

"All right." He let her go long enough to push to his feet, but then sat down on the bench next to her and pulled her right up into his lap.

She squeaked. Tony pressed his cheek against her hair and searched for words. "Please, Pepper. Please, just let me do this at least, okay? Let me hold you. You're _allowed_ to give in once in a while, you know."

Pepper shook her head a fraction, though whether in negation or for some internal thought he didn't know, but she slowly relaxed against him; and, wonder of wonders, her arm crept shyly around his neck, as if afraid he would back away from her touch. The sensation was a strange delight, and Tony let some time go by before he spoke again.

"I'd ask if you're okay, but it seems like a pretty stupid question."

She cleared her throat. "'M not," she muttered. "Sorry."

She lifted her head and met his gaze. Her eyes were swollen and her nose red, and all he wanted to do was soothe her hot face with his lips. He gave her a stern look instead. "If you try to apologize, Potts, I'm going to have to spank you."

She made a sound that was a cross between a cough and a snicker, and rubbed her eyes with her free hand, sitting up a little. "It's my fault."

That made no sense to him. Tony squinted at her, automatically shifting to keep her secure on his lap. "What's your fault?"

Pepper shrugged, a tiny movement that somehow bespoke hopelessness. "All of it. Happy." She looked away. "He's hurt 'cause of me."

It took him a moment to process her words, and then Tony took a very careful hold of his temper, because he didn't think that yelling at Pepper when she was so upset was going to help. "Let me get this straight. You're blaming _yourself_ because Happy got hurt."

She gave a jerky nod, and swiped at her nose with the back of her hand. Without really thinking about it, Tony fished in his pocket and handed her his handkerchief, meanwhile keeping his voice even. "You know, I wish Happy were here, because then he could make you see how _stupid_ that is."

Pepper, wiping her face, flinched, and Tony took a deep breath. "How the hell is it your fault that those three morons couldn't even kidnap the right woman?"

"No--" She cleared her throat again. "If I'd stayed in, instead of going out--"

Tony gave into temptation and stroked the ruffled hair out of her eyes. "He was probably watching the house. You had to come out sometime, and he was waiting for it."

Pepper opened her mouth, but he kept going. "Plus, may I remind you, protecting you is part of Happy's _job._ I don't want to see him hurt any more than you do, but he basically signed up to take the risk." Tony absently took the handkerchief and stuffed it back into his pocket. "And he'll tell you the same thing, the next time you see him."

Pepper blinked, her gaze searching his face, though he didn't know what she was looking for. Tony couldn't tell if his words were reaching her; he kicked himself mentally for not realizing that she would feel guilty over Happy's injury. _She takes on every responsibility she can find, what made you think she would miss this one?_

But then she let out a breath, and with a slowness that made him hold his own breath, she leaned against him again, resting her head in the space between his neck and shoulder. "I feel like a wimp," she said at last.

Tony choked back a laugh. _"You?"_

He couldn't see her face, but the air that puffed against his throat might have been the beginning of a chuckle. "I just lost it all over your garden, 'member?"

He huffed gently against the top of her head. "Pepper. Please. You survived three thugs and two nights in the wilderness, you got yourself home, and left me with nothing to do--you hid yourself so well I couldn't even _find_ you. You left the fucking _FBI_ to clean up after you. You're _terrifying._ " He wanted to squeeze her until she couldn't breathe. "You're damn well _entitled_ to a good cry."

"Not all over my boss," she mumbled, hunching a bit.

It was barely loud enough for him to hear. Tony opened his mouth to dispute the term, then closed it. _Now is not the time, dumbass._ Instead, he tightened his arms a little. "Any time, Pepper, and I mean that."

They sat in silence for a long time, and he counted each moment worthwhile.

* * *

The koi in the mossy old pond were huge with age, spotted with glitter, and possessed of sardonic eyes. They lurked--there was no other word for it, in Tony's opinion--beneath the water plants, surfacing slowly on occasion in hopes that treats would be flung.

He sat on the slate edge of the pool and indulged them, dropping in little pellets of something vaguely nasty; it claimed to be premium fish food, and certainly the koi loved it, swooping up to gulp them down, occasionally bumping one another out of the way. They had come with the house, an accent to the carefully planned, tree-backed pond and its surrounding hydrangeas; the whole thing was set up to imitate nature, and was one of the reasons he'd fallen in love with the place originally.

Tony amused himself trying to tell the fish apart; most of them were a brilliant orange and white, but there was also one in light pink livery and two a sort of dark silver, and two more in red and gold so perfect that he was tickled at how close they came to the suit. _They're even shiny._

He tossed more pellets and idly wondered if it would be possible to breed a koi with a blue spot on its underside, but the thought didn't last long. Pepper came drifting back to the surface of his thoughts as relentlessly as the koi.

They'd spent almost an hour on the old stone bench, just sitting in silence, Pepper still curled on his lap. The length of her legs made it a bit awkward, but she didn't seem to mind, and Tony had been too quietly thrilled that she was trusting him to worry about it.

And then his phone had chimed.

If he'd been his old self, he'd have tossed it over his shoulder into the bushes. But there was Happy to consider, and Iron Man, and even when the call had turned out to be about the Tokyo reactor he'd still had to go. Pepper's smile and gentle shove had been no real consolation.

He'd left strict instructions that she was to be fed as soon as she came in. And when he'd returned hours later, he was told that Ms. Potts had eaten, soaked in the ofuro for a while, and lain down for a nap. Which was, Tony had to admit, satisfactory.

Now, in the mellow light of evening, he wondered what the hell to do next. Or even if there _was_ anything he could do.

"I didn't know there were fish in there."

Tony jumped as Pepper's voice spoke behind him, and turned to see her smiling apologetically. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

He had to smile. She looked glorious in the golden light, her hair aflame; still worn, but with that relentless tension relaxed. "They only show if they think they can harrass you into feeding them. Wanna?"

He held out the fish-treat canister, and Pepper took it, settling gracefully next to him on the slate and hooking up one knee on the edge. "How many are there?"

Tony blinked. "You know, I'm not really sure." He peered at the shifting, glistening forms vying for the morsels Pepper was scattering. "One plus x, I suppose."

She kept her eyes on the supplicants, long fingers flicking another few pellets across the water. "Tony, I do want to apologize..."

He set his jaw. "Spanking, remember?" That made her raise her head and glare at him, but Tony didn't give way. "Stop it. It's _not necessary_."

Pepper raised her chin. "You don't even know what I'm trying to apologize for!"

"Doesn't matter, I don't want to hear it."

The glare deepened, but a spark lit it. "How do you know? I might have...kicked a hole in the ofuro or something."

Tony burst out laughing, and Pepper's mouth curved in a reluctant grin. On impulse, he reached over and took the hand not encumbered with the pellet canister. "Come on, Pepper. Will you just _trust_ me?"

She blinked at that, sobering, and he stumbled on. "I...look, I know this is deeply weird, but...ever since I got back things have been changing. _I've_ changed. And while you were gone, I...I couldn't..." Tony swallowed. "I can't _pretend_ any more."

"Tony--"

She hadn't pulled away. He tightened his fingers, trying to make the pressure show his sincerity. "You don't have to--I mean, it's not--"

Something abruptly _pinched_ him, right on the ass. Tony flinched violently, lost his balance, felt Pepper's fingers slip from his grip, and--arms flailing--fell backward into the water with a splash worthy of a cartoon.

For an instant the water closing over his head was icy cold and ghostly hands gripped his shoulders. But he'd spent hours, days, submersing himself in the bath inch by inch to gain control, and the phantoms vanished as quickly as they'd come. The water was just cool, and green with life, and his backside hit the pond bottom within a second. Tony shoved himself upright, his head and shoulders clearing the surface easily, and clawed waterweed out of his face--sputtering and surprised, but only that.

And the first thing that met his eyes was Pepper doubled over, arms wrapped around her waist as she howled with laughter.

Irritation and wounded pride fled before delight. He couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so hard, and if it took a ducking to do it, he was willing to make the sacrifice of dryness and dignity.

Not that he'd had much _choice._

Pepper flapped one hand weakly, trying to say something, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was more laughter. He grinned at her, ignoring the slightly slimy feel of the water. "Careful, Ms. Potts, or I'll--"

 _Drag you in here with me_ was what he meant to say, but halfway through the sentence Pepper wobbled, grabbed at the pool's rim, and lost her laughter in a shriek as she tumbled over the side.

Her splash wasn't as impressive as his, but it was still enough to douse his already-soaking head. Tony wiped his eyes clear as she surfaced with a gasp, and started laughing himself at the sheer astonished outrage on her face.

Pepper's head snapped around to glare at him, and Tony raised a hand. "Hey, I didn't even touch you! That was all _you._ "

"You--you-- _gah!_ " With a quick motion of one arm, she sent a wave right into his face. Tony whooped and splashed her back, and for a few minutes it was nothing but shouts and dodges and gouts of water glittering in the last of the sun.

Finally they sat panting and giggling, letting the water calm. Pepper's hair, no longer bright, hung down in stringy clumps; her shirt was streaked with algae, and there was a strand of waterweed caught behind one ear. Tony figured he looked no better, but he was still mesmerized by her--unpolished, undone, unguarded and...everything he wanted. The laughter sank away as he watched her, and Tony felt his augmented heart spasm with the need to pull her close. Not just for a kiss, or more; to feel her touch and know that she wanted him too.

Pepper sighed, still smiling, and then glanced down. "Your pets are getting kind of cheeky."

Tony became aware of the large forms cruising past him hopefully. "Damn fish. This is all their fault anyway." And it was; given a moment to think, he'd realized that one of the massive koi had actually bitten his butt in its quest for more treats.

Pepper laughed again. "Is that a fish in your pocket, or are you just happy sashimi?"

Tony stared at her. "Did you actually make a dirty pun? _You?_ "

She raised her brows, looking astonishingly prim for someone soaked through. "Me, Mr. Stark? I think you must be hallucinating."

"I'm going to make you all into sushi," Tony told the water, but the threat didn't seem to have much effect.

"Gelfilte fish, maybe." Pepper sighed again, shivered, and eyed him uncertainly for a moment, and then astounded him by sliding over and pressing a cool, lingering kiss to his damp cheek.

"I...I understand what you're saying, Tony," she told him in a low voice. "But I need time to think about it."

Before he could find words she rose, water sheeting off her, and climbed out of the pond, swinging her legs around to stand on the other side. "Do you need a hand?"

Tony pulled his eyes from the wet jeans clinging to her calves and thighs and looked up. "No--uh, no thanks. I'll be along in a minute."

Pepper nodded, apparently oblivious to his gaze, and set off for the house, squishing audibly. "Don't stay in too long," floated back over her shoulder, and Tony blew her a raspberry, which was countered only by laughter.

The water was starting to chill, but for a little while, all he did was sit and grin.


	13. Chapter 13

Virginia wasn't sure how long she could take idle isolation without going quietly nuts, but her fit of bawling in the garden seemed to have one effect at least--it let her relax. In fact, she eased into an oddly undemanding state, one where she was able to sit for hours and read the stack of books she'd had Jarvis send along, or go for walks around the lake. Or even just catch up on what seemed suddenly like years of sleep deprivation.

Tony didn't press his not-question on her again. The only indication that he hadn't abandoned the idea--or that she hadn't imagined it in the stress following her homecoming--occurred when she looked up and caught him staring at her with an intensity that she usually only saw when he was talking about Iron Man. It was unnerving. And, if she were to be honest, pleasing as well.

All her own rules concerning her boss seemed to be eroding, dissolving slowly away. She'd never trusted Tony with her heart because she had no desire to be just one more notch on his belt. But she'd never seen him look at any woman the way he looked at her. None of them had ever really _mattered_.

 _And you do?_ her cynical side asked. But its voice was growing fainter.

She'd more than half-expected Tony to leave her at the house and go off to tend to business, Stark Industries or Iron Man or both. It would have been natural and sensible. But instead he lingered, carting her off to the hot springs one day and getting the sailboat out of storage the next, accompanying her on some of her walks or vanishing into the little communications room when she wanted to be alone. They ate together, did a little local sightseeing, and sometimes just sat next to the fishpond--carefully--and talked. Or teleconferenced with Happy, who had acquired quite a tan in Hawaii and was already up and about on crutches.

"He asked Jarvis to send him a laptop," Tony said one warm afternoon, lying back in the grass near the pond with his hands folded under his head. "Dunno why, the computer system at the Kauai place is state-of-the-art, but whatever."

"Maybe he just wanted something that wasn't on your network," Virginia posited, dropping a last few fish-treats into the pond and wiping her hands on the grass. "You know how private he is."

Tony snorted a laugh. "Makes you wonder what he wants to hide."

"No hacking to find out," she told him sternly, but Tony freed one hand long enough to wave that off.

"Not planning on it. But what do _you_ think it is, Potts?"

"Off-track betting?" The absurdity was worth it to see Tony sporfle.

"What an image. Maybe he collects something on eBay."

"Like what?" Virginia hooked her arms around her pulled-up knees and grinned, enjoying the idea and knowing that Happy would find it deeply amusing were he there. _It's not like he'd give us any hints, either._

Tony stretched a little. "I dunno, maybe those little porcelain figurines that look like mutant babies?"

Virginia snickered. "Lladro? No, you mean Precious Moments, don't you?"

"Yeah, the kind that come alive when you're sleeping and do evil deeds."

She had to laugh out loud. "I agree, the things are hideous, but I don't think they're animated."

Tony was still smiling. "Mom had a collection of them. I locked them up after she died, but when they still gave me nightmares I took them out on the beach and went all extreme prejudice on them with a hammer."

She suppressed an automatic wince at the destruction of what was probably a fairly valuable set of figurines, and enjoyed the vision of a younger Tony wielding a claw hammer and grinning ferociously. "Did any of them fight back?"

"Of course not, I'm not stupid, Potts. I did it at high noon." He looked smug as she laughed again.

They sat in silence for a while, a silence that was surprisingly comfortable. If Virginia had been asked just two weeks prior whether her boss could just be still without something to distract him, she would have said no, unless large amounts of alcohol and angst were involved. But if he'd drunk anything more than wine with lunch, it wasn't evident; and he lay in the grass now, one toe twitching idly, as if he'd never even heard of _hyperactive._

The question rose slowly, and for some reason she didn't censor it. "Aren't you bored?"

Tony squinted at her, then reached out one hand and wrapped it around her ankle, a warm tight grip. "Not at the moment, no."

She couldn't look away from his gaze. The air thickened, and seemed to hum, and somewhere in the back of her mind Virginia was aware that if they were on a level they would probably be--

Tony blinked, and cleared his throat, his fingers slowly opening and drawing back. "I, um. I'll admit there are times when I'm a little restless though. When you're busy with other things." His grin was quick, and she matched it, relieved and disappointed both.

"You can go, you know, Tony. I'll be fine here; Yuu will look after me." Yuu, Virginia judged, was delighted to have someone to quietly fuss over, though one would never know it to look at her. "I know things are piling up at home."

Tony shrugged. "So let them pile. I'm on vacation." He was still watching her, and Virginia glanced away; Tony breathed out. "Look, if they haven't caught the scumbag by the end of the week, I'll head home and do a few chores. But for the moment I'm getting enough done remotely."

She knew that tone; there was no point in arguing. And she didn't really want him to go. For one thing, it would be much more boring without him, and for another... _If he's here, I know he's okay._ She didn't actually expect Three to go after Tony, but the events of the past few weeks had left her feeling a lot less secure about the safety of those she cared about.

She sighed, and let go of her knees. "I'll be glad when they do." Peace she might have for the moment, but Virginia knew she was going to run out of patience eventually, and she couldn't stay in Matsue indefinitely.

Tony nodded, looking around from his prone position. "Yeah, me too." But his voice lacked the enthusiasm he expected, and when he saw her curious gaze he shrugged again. "I dunno...scumbag aside, this has been...nice."

"My breakdown notwithstanding, you mean?" Her smirk widened at his flush, and she shook her head at him. "Relax, Tony, I'm joking. I know what you mean. This is a lovely spot."

He beamed. "I'm glad you like it, Pepper."

She wanted to say more, to acknowledge how he'd brought her to what was essentially his own private sanctuary, but she couldn't figure out how to say it without sounding awkward or fatuous. So she just leaned over a little and snagged his fingers with hers.

Tony's eyes widened, and his fingers laced into hers. She squeezed them, then let go. "I'm hungry."

"Food then." Tony sat up as Virginia scrambled to her feet, and she reached down to extend a hand. He took it willingly and she pulled him up with one smooth motion--right into her personal space.

It made her freeze. Tony looked surprised as well, biting his lip, and as if he'd spoken Virginia knew he was hesitating on the brink of kissing her again, his free hand hovering at her side while his other still clasped hers.

It was astonishingly easy to close the space between them and slip her arms around him, turning the moment into a hug that he returned warmly. "Thank you," she said quietly, wondering why the hard lump of his reactor implant didn't hurt where it dug into her chest. "Just...thank you."

Tony pressed his face into her hair, and she felt a tremor run through him, once and gone. "Pepper," he muttered. "You know I--I can't do without you."

Closing her eyes, Virginia smiled.

* * *

Her bladder woke her, and Virginia made her way blearily to the little bathroom off her bedroom, squinting as the overhead light came on. More than half-asleep, she relieved herself and washed her hands, and as she opened the narrow door she saw the light edging in the windows and realized that it was dawn. She stretched and yawned, feeling sleep falling away. When life was what she laughingly called _normal,_ she was usually up before the sun, and apparently her body was finally rested and ready to return to routine.

Sighing, she dressed and slipped out of her room, planning on a walk in the garden before breakfast, but as she made her way down the hallway a murmur reached her ears. _Tony. What's he doing in the electronics room at this hour?_

When she reached the half-open door, Tony had the chair tipped back so far it looked like he was going to overbalance, and was scowling at the dark video screen. The deep voice of Agent Donovan was rendered only slightly less resonant by the speakerphone, and she could hear frustration in the man's words despite their professional tone. "...hiding, Mr. Stark. There are plenty of places he could hole up, and until he makes a move--"

"You're the _Eff Bee Eye,_ " Tony drawled, every syllable heavy with sarcasm. "How the hell can you _not_ find this guy?"

He glanced up as Virginia stepped into the room; his expression didn't lighten, but he waved her in. "Good morning, Ms. Potts," he added, clearly for Donovan's benefit. "We're just having a little discussion about the Feds' complete lack of competence."

"Special Agent Donovan," she acknowledged courteously, giving Tony a pointed look for his rudeness, which he ignored.

"Good morning, Ms. Potts," Donovan said. "I trust you're feeling better?"

"Much, thank you. What's going on?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," Tony said, still sarcastic. "Your kidnapper, one Charles Yarbro according to his accomplice, seems to have vanished into thin air."

"That's incorrect. We know he's looking for Ms. Potts." Virginia admired Donovan's patience in the face of Tony's needling. "But we haven't been able to track down his precise location. At this point he seems prepared to stay hidden indefinitely."

"Indefinitely?" Virginia asked. She didn't like the sound of that. Yes, she'd come to Japan to be safe, but not for _forever._

"It would seem so," Donovan said. "Of course, it may be possible to draw him out."

It took Virginia a second or so to understand what he meant. Tony realized it at the same time, slamming the front legs of his chair down with a bang and giving her an incredulous glare. " _Hell_ no."

"Tony--" Virginia began, but Donovan interrupted.

"I'm not suggesting that we set Ms. Potts out as bait. My team specializes in undercover operations. Agent Cross can play the part quite easily."

"I doubt that," Tony muttered, then raised his voice. "You think that will work?"

"It has better odds of success than just waiting," Donovan admitted. "Ms. Potts?"

The idea bothered her, but it _did_ sound sensible. "What...what's involved?"

"On your part? Very little." Donovan's voice was brisk. "I'd like to send Agent Cross to meet you; she will spend a day or so observing you, and may need to borrow one or two of your personal items."

"She's too short," Tony interrupted irritably. "And--"

"Not significantly," Donovan replied. "Mr. Stark. You will have to trust us. Agent Cross is very, very good at her job."

Virginia closed her hand on Tony's shoulder, cutting off whatever rude retort he'd been about to make. "Can you give us more details, please?"

Tony was hard to convince, but in the end he agreed to the idea. Donovan assured them that his agent would be on the next available flight to Tokyo, to be picked up there by one of Tony's drivers, and plans were set in motion. After the phone call was ended, Virginia raised her brows at Tony. "Why don't you like the idea?"

He sighed, and took one of her hands, spreading it open in his and tracing a finger along the lines in her palm. "It's not the idea," he admitted. "It's Donovan. He puts my back up."

Virginia looked down at his head, bent over her hand, and had to smile. The tickle of his touch was pleasant, but she drew her hand back nonetheless. "Two alpha males trying to be in charge? I'd never have guessed."

Tony snorted, and stood, pushing the chair back. "I'll admit, he and his people did figure out where you were being held, but not in time for us to actually _get_ there, so eh." He stretched. "Guess we'll find out if they're any better at playing decoy."

"I hope so," Virginia said. "I do like Matsue, Tony, it's beautiful, but I'm ready to go _home._ "

He gave her half a smile. "Me too."

* * *

Agent Cross arrived the next day. When she stepped out of the car, she looked half-Japanese, half-Caucasian, but once inside the house she pulled off her wig and adjusted her posture, and was suddenly someone else, giving both Tony and Virginia a smile that reminded the latter of a young cat. "I'm Alex Cross."

Tony made a small choking noise, and the agent's smile widened. "I know. Pseudonyms are part of the game, I'm afraid." She was a good two inches shorter than Virginia, and not quite as slender, and wore her brown hair in a peculiar short cut; but Virginia had the feeling that she was everything Donovan had promised.

Virginia showed Cross to the guest room set up for her, leaving Tony to take a phone call. "What will you need me to do?" she asked.

Cross went over to the small suitcase she'd brought with her, already set in place by one of the staff, and opened it, setting her black wig on top of the contents. "Just be yourself, mostly, so I can study you. I know it's weird, but try to act naturally." She gave Virginia another smile, genuinely warm. "I won't be in your hair for very long, I promise."

Virginia smiled back, already liking the woman. "Okay. Um...are you going to try to act as Tony's assistant?" The idea had been nagging at her. It was one thing to imitate her mannerisms, but--

Cross shook her head quickly. "Not at all. In fact, we'd prefer to keep Mr. Stark as separate from me as possible, for safety." She hesitated. "Did Donovan bring up borrowing your apartment?"

"Yes." Virginia shrugged. "If you don't mind watering my plants when you get there."

Cross laughed. "Not a problem."

It was a little strange, to be shadowed by a stranger, but Alex--as she asked Virginia to call her--was not intrusive, and acted more like a guest than an observer. It was actually nice, Virginia thought, to have someone else around to talk with, and they did spend several hours in conversation, with the only hint of Alex's purpose being her bright eyes fixed on Virginia with unusual intensity.

Tony was slightly withdrawn in Alex's presence, though he treated her with absent courtesy; Virginia attributed it more to a sudden knotty problem that had arisen with the SI board of directors than his feelings about the decoy plan. He spent a lot of time in the electronics room, and Virginia kept urging him to go home and take care of things personally, but he put her off, saying it wasn't that critical yet.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but Virginia was troubled. It was true that Agent Cross performed dangerous feats undercover for a living, and Virginia had no doubt that everything Donovan said about her was true. But Virginia's own words kept coming back to her, about people getting hurt. And though she didn't really know Alex, it still felt wrong.

* * *

Tony admitted, in the privacy of his own thoughts, that luring Pepper's would-be killer out using Agent Cross was a good idea, even if it was Donovan's. But he found himself resenting Cross' intrusion into the peace of Matsue, even though she was as courteous a guest as could be wished. Partly it was the fact that he had so long kept Matsue as a retreat where _no_ one, not even Rhodey, came without invitation; partly it was the fact that she had interrupted the intimate time between Pepper and himself. He did his best not to resent her for it--she wasn't responsible for her boss being an ass, for one thing.

The board of directors suddenly getting a bug up its collective butt regarding a takeover that had been in the works for months distracted him. Tony videoconferenced with them for hours each day, swallowing his impatience and trying to be diplomatic, but his time was running out. He knew he'd been lucky that nothing more pressing had called him back as yet, but sooner or later something would come up. His conscience, overwhelmed for a time by the need to see Pepper safe, began to nag him about Iron Man; any mission that might come up would be delayed by almost eight hours, given the distance between himself and the suit. In his less busy moments he began sketching out ideas for assembly that didn't require the huge mechanism in his workshop. It would require a redesign of the suit itself, but since he came back from every flight with at least two more ideas for upgrades, that wasn't a major issue.

Agent Cross came to find him on the third day, asking politely if she could speak with him for a moment. He blinked at her. "Sure. Privately?"

She shook her head. "I'd rather include Virginia, if you don't mind."

It was a bit weird to hear Pepper's real name; most people in Tony's life either referred to her as "Pepper" or used the respectful "Ms. Potts". He cocked his head and gestured towards the front room, which included cushions for kneeling and was the closest the house came to a Western-style living room.

Agent Cross, he noticed when they gathered, took a cushion as if she'd spent her whole life kneeling. He barely remembered her from the chaos of the hunt for Pepper, she'd been just one more face in the crowd then, but now he saw strength in her, and a calm he didn't necessarily associate with federal agents. "I'm ready to begin this operation," she stated simply, watching them both. "It would work best if we returned to Malibu together, Mr. Stark."

Tony glanced over at Pepper. "That makes sense, I guess," he said cautiously. "And then what?"

Cross opened both hands. "Ideally, you would drop me off at Virginia's apartment, pending her permission." She nodded at Pepper. "Agent Donovan will already have a surveillance team in place."

"And you just wait for him to try to pick you off?" Tony asked. "That's a little...passive, isn't it?"

"We'll set up a press release," Pepper said firmly. "Something to the effect that I was on leave briefly--for health reasons, maybe--but that I'm back in town. Not back from leave, but home." She shot Tony an odd look.

"Sounds good," he said. "For one thing, your place is a lot easier to get to than mine...we're going to have to do something about that, Potts..."

Cross smiled. "Let's catch him first."

Pepper shifted, frowning a little. "What if he _doesn't_ come after me--you? What if he's quit and gone away? You can't do this indefinitely."

"That's not likely," the agent said gently. "From the information we've been able to gather, he's determined to find you."

Pepper bit her lip, looking frustrated, and Tony wanted to reach out and take her hand, but too much space separated their cushions. "Why is he _doing_ this?" she burst out. "I didn't even _see_ him, not really! Why's he trying to kill me?"

Cross shook her head. "We won't know that until we ask him," she answered. "But even then--his profile indicates he considers himself smarter than those around him, and according to his associate, he was the brains behind the kidnapping scheme. Discovering that they got the wrong target, and then you escaped--" She shrugged, and her eyes flicked to Tony and back, quietly amused. "Wounded pride."

He might have found it funny, if the target had been someone else, but all Tony could feel was the familiar surge of fury at the knowledge that someone wanted Pepper dead.

His assistant rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll work on the press release. But I'm coming back with you."

Tony started to protest, but Pepper cut him off, waving the agent to silence as well. "Not to my apartment, but I'm _not_ staying here to just _wait._ I'll stay on the plane until you send another car for me, but I'm going."

He recognized her expression, and knew that he was going to lose any argument he might try. At the same time, though, it occurred to him that if she came back with them, he could tuck her safely away in his house, and have the added benefit of having her close by. "Deal."

Cross still looked doubtful. "You do understand that this operation hinges on complete secrecy, Virginia?"

Pepper nodded, her hands linking in her lap. "The flight staff and the driver will be able to tell anyway," she pointed out. "But they're entirely discreet."

Cross shot Tony a questioning look, and he gave her a sardonic one right back. "My people get offered obscene amounts of money on a regular basis to discuss my business." He smirked. "They have iron-clad contracts that include a matching clause. How much did Jacques get the last time, Pepper?"

"The _Sun_ offered him ten thousand dollars for an exclusive," Pepper murmured, a smile curling her lips. "I believe you added a bonus to that."

Cross didn't look convinced, and Tony leaned forward. "My father instituted that back in the day," he said. "We've had exactly three confidentiality breaches since then, and all three got their asses handed to them in court. I'm not worried."

The agent pursed her lips, then nodded. "Very well," she said. "Shall we leave in the morning?"

* * *

The flight home was busy; Tony and Pepper spent much of it working on Stark Industries items that could no longer be put off, while Agent Cross tucked herself into a seat and read for the first half of the flight. Midway over the Pacific she rose, requested the use of the small bedroom in the back of the plane, and disappeared until it was time to strap in for landing. And when she emerged, Tony felt his mouth drop open in amazement. Pepper, across the table from him, gave a small gasp.

At first sight, it was as if Pepper had cloned herself. The woman who strode out of the bedroom had short, red-gold hair, a spattering of freckles across her nose and cheekbones, and the long, elegant lines of his assistant; she wore a tidy, subtly sexy business suit, and her stockinged legs ended in stiletto heels.

After the first few seconds, however, Tony could see the differences. She was a fraction shorter than Pepper, and her eyes were the wrong shape, her cheekbones a touch too wide. The tiny details gave him an odd sense of _wrongness_ , exacerbated when Cross gave him an innocent smile with lips fuller than Pepper's and sat down, pulling the seatbelt into place.

"It works better if we're not in the same room together," she commented; even her voice was pitched differently.

"That's...amazing," Pepper said, her voice a little constricted.

"It's fucking _scary,_ " Tony admitted. One small part of his mind was immediately taken up with some very dirty scenarios involving both women, but he shut it up without a qualm; it was just reflex, and he had no interest in anyone besides Pepper any longer, no matter what his libido had to say about it.

Cross shrugged elegantly. Even her posture was different, Tony realized, going from her own relaxed watchfulness to Pepper's poise. "It'll do."

The limo was waiting when the jet taxied into place, though it was still Tristan waiting by the open door rather than Happy. Cross waited by the door, fiddling with Pepper's handbag and keys as Tony paused by Pepper.

"Tristan'll come right back for you after he drops me off," he said in a low tone, reaching out to grip her arms gently. Even with Cross as a decoy, he felt deeply uneasy about having Pepper back within range of a killer.

She nodded, looking worried. "You be careful too, okay, Tony? I don't think he's really worried about collateral damage..."

Underneath the fear, he felt a thrill that she was so concerned about him. "I'll be fine," he replied. "Just keep your head down until you're safely at my place, hear me?"

He was startled when she threw her arms around him for a fierce hug, but not so much that he couldn't return it with enthusiasm. She smelled warm and delicious, and Tony didn't want to let _go,_ but then she was stepping back, a little flushed. "See you in a few hours."

With that, she vanished into the bedroom, and he went to escort his ersatz assistant down the stairs to the ground, sliding on sunglasses to conceal his expression and resting a hand lightly on the small of Cross' back as they headed for the limo. The sense of wrongness increased as he ducked into the car after her and saw her on the seat opposite, seated with her feet primly together, just like Pepper.

"You don't have to right now," he said, a bit roughly. "No one can see in."

She cocked her head and gave him Pepper's one-sided smile, which made him feel uneasier. "Once I'm in a role, I prefer to keep it up," she said. "It's easier."

He couldn't fault her logic, and it irritated him. Tony grunted and turned away, watching the plane fall behind as Tristan steered them towards home.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Especial thanks to Laura27md for last-minute reassurance, and Cincoflex, as ever, for editing, support, and telling me that yes, getting my appendix removed did take precedence over that last chapter. *snerk* Much, much love to you both.
> 
> All that and I didn't even pop the rating. Huh.

In the days preceding Pepper's return from Japan, Jarvis reported, her building had acquired an imposing new doorman, a handyman who wore a concealed weapon, and a new tenant across the hall from her apartment--agents Donovan, Shaw, and Davis, all in disguise. The AI had hacked into the FBI team's communications on Tony's order, and kept them apprised as the operation proceeded. Donovan was going to be livid if he found out, but Tony simply didn't care.

Cross stayed in Pepper's apartment, making the occasional foray for milk or to the post office, but always with Stark Industries security detailed by Tony to guard her; the idea was to lure Three into the building itself, rather than to give him an opportunity to pick "Pepper" off from a distance again.

Pepper moved back into her chosen room in Tony's house, and took up as much of her work as she could without leaving the house. She was physically recovered, Tony judged, and it wasn't as though he didn't need her back on the job, but he still wished there was some way to make her take more time off.

It was a weird sort of limbo, waiting for Pepper's shadowy attacker to actually do something. Donovan brought by a mug shot to show Pepper--Yarbro had apparently done some time for assault and extortion--but she shook her head over it, recognizing nothing. Tony snuck a look at it, seeing only an average-looking white man with wide shoulders and dark hair, clean-shaven and slightly contemptuous. There was nothing in the image that indicated dangerous obsession.

Still, Tony mentally painted a target in the middle of Yarbro's forehead. _Breathe on her again, and you're mine._ He was willing to let the FBI take their shot first, it saved hassle and legalities, but the minute the sting began Iron Man was going to be in the sky overhead. Just in case.

When a mission came up the very night they returned to the United States, his sense of divided loyalties was almost as bad as Farkar had been, but he'd gone. And had probably broken an airspeed record on the way home, but it hadn't mattered--nothing happened.

Not for a week.

Not for two weeks. Pepper talked hopefully of the possibility that Three had just given up and gone away, but Tony knew he hadn't. He didn't know _how_ he knew, but the certainty was there. _Wounded pride,_ Cross had said, and Tony could see it; how being outsmarted and defeated by a slender, big-eyed, helpless-looking woman would be a burn that would not be soothed by anything other than revenge.

Funny, that. Once upon a time, he would not have tolerated that kind of loss either, though his need to be the best would have taken a different form. Now he found himself wondering if defeat wasn't the sweeter option after all.

_I keep trying to surrender. She just won't accept._

Yet, anyway.

It felt like Pepper was ignoring everything that had passed between them, his plea and her promise to consider it; as if she wanted to pretend it had never happened. It made him feel hurt, and angry. _We just got back,_ he reminded himself. _It's not like she's had time to do anything yet._

But he felt...helpless. It was a terrifying thing to put his heart in Pepper's hands and just _wait,_ not knowing when she would answer him or even if. _On the other hand...she kind of already had it._

That was the scariest part, that he really hadn't had a choice. In all his past relationships, however long they lasted, Tony had been the one in control. He had made his choices, and decided when to end things. This time, it wasn't up to him.

 _You can be patient,_ he reminded himself. He'd learned patience in a hard school, but it had paid off in the end and he had to believe it would again.

It was hard to keep his hands to himself, too. He still found himself dreaming about that first kiss, when he'd lost it completely, and the way she'd responded...but there didn't seem to be any opportunity to so much as ask for another one. Pepper scarcely slowed down enough to talk to him, let alone anything else, and Tony found himself feeling lonely again. Which was stupid, she was right _there,_ but he couldn't help it.

And underneath it all was the question of what he was going to do if she decided that she _didn't_ want a relationship with him. Would she walk away, quit her job and leave? Tony thought he might be able to manage to live with the status quo, as long as she were still around, but the idea of losing her completely terrified him, even if she was perfectly fine.

 _It's not fair,_ he whined to himself. He'd never anticipated having to _wait._

And waiting was hurting a lot more than he'd ever imagined it could.

* * *

They were halfway into Week Three, and Tony was working on flight dynamics and vaguely aware that he'd missed dinner, when Pepper keyed her way into his workshop. "Ms. Potts," he said, noting her lack of shoes with approval. "Come to put me to bed?"

Pepper bit her lip, hesitated, and then went over to the kitchen area. To his surprise, she took down the bottle of Scotch and poured herself a measure, on ice, before turning back to him. "I need you to tell me about Afghanistan."

His first instinct was to refuse. They were _his_ memories, his triumph and his shame, and no one else had a right to them.

But her fingers were a little too tight on the glass, her eyes a little too wide, and Tony realized abruptly that maybe this wasn't about _him._

He took a breath and let it out slowly. "Pour me one too," he said, and turned away.

They ended up on the battered couch, Tony with his back against one arm and Pepper huddled at the other end, her bare feet drawn up. It felt a lot like the last time, but with the emotions turned inside out, and Tony sipped away half his glass before he had the words organized enough. Pepper waited quietly, looking chilled despite the warmth of the workshop, and he thought vaguely about finding her a blanket or something, but the pressure of memory was too much.

"The worst thing was not knowing if they killed Rhodey," he began at last, starting in the middle, and Pepper winced in sympathy. "I mean, if they'd caught him they would have used him as leverage on me, but they blew away all the soldiers with me, I didn't know if they got him too..."

He didn't tell her everything. Some of it was too raw, still; some of it just didn't come up in his rambling. But he told her about the darkness and the firelight and the pain; the small moments of comfort, the ideas sparking like fireworks that didn't fade. He spoke of his captors, the stupid and the smart, the occasional careless kindness, the deliberate brutality. He told her about Yinsen for the first time, his saving grace in hopelessness, quiet courage and compassion and wry humor, and how his life was more than a gift now, it was a responsibility.

And in the end, he told her about how her voice had yanked him back from madness, how sometimes the memory of her was what kept him from pulling out the electromagnet and letting his own handiwork take its course.

She never spoke. But the tears coursing down her cheeks told him she was listening; and when she unfolded herself and reached out, his hand met hers in a hard grip, and the tightness around his chest implant eased.

It was a strange sensation, to sit together unspeaking, without the need to do more; just two people, two friends, holding on to one another.

It was enough.

* * *

Virginia let herself sleep in a little the next morning, more to give herself time to process than because she was actually tired. Tony had dropped hints here and there about what his captivity had been like, but her imagination had clearly been unequal to what he'd gone through. She wasn't even sure where she'd found the courage to ask; it had just been a strange need for parity, for recognition that if they were going to be anything more than what they were there had to be more trust.

And it had worked. He'd trusted her with the details...and she'd trusted that he would tell her.

It was _good_ to get back to routine, hectic as it was. Though Virginia had to admit to herself that her enforced vacation really _had_ been a necessity, for her mental health if not her physical. She kept waiting to feel embarrassed about her breakdown in the garden, now that they were back to what she might laughingly term as "normal", but the feeling never showed; instead, there was a shy gratitude to Tony for just being there.

And, beneath that, a desire to repeat the experience--not the crying jag, but the comfort of just holding on to him for a while. It was odd; she'd never applied the label of _comforting_ to Tony Stark before, and yet there it was. She was used to him surprising her, but not in quite such a fashion.

As she'd promised him, she thought about what had passed between them. He hadn't actually managed to _ask_ her anything, she remembered with amusement; the koi had interrupted that. But it was clear enough what he wanted.

 _And you want it too._ That wasn't in question. Folly, perhaps, but then Virginia had never imagined that she'd actually get it; the Tony she wanted and the Tony who existed weren't the same. _Until now._ It was a little eerie, seeing the potential she'd dreamed come to life in him; it was something she wasn't sure she could trust, and yet...

 _When he decides to do something, he makes it happen._ There was plenty of proof of that.

In the end, she decided, it scared her. Wanting Tony from a distance was easy; she'd been doing it for quite some time. Taking the step forward into the unknown of a relationship with him was _hard,_ because almost anything could happen. And she couldn't predict what exactly _would_ happen, because a relationship would change all the rules.

It could be glorious. It could be terrible. "Knowing Tony," Virginia murmured to the early morning, "it could be both simultaneously."

But she was smiling as she said it.

* * *

It was Thursday morning when Jarvis spoke quietly into Virginia's ear where she sat working in her little office in Tony's home. "Ms. Potts, the undercover team is on alert. It appears that Mr. Yarbro is finally making his move."

Virginia let the chill pass over her and away and sat up straight. "...All right, thank you. What's Tony doing?"

"Changing clothes. He intends to monitor the operation from a distance."

Virginia pressed her lips into a hard line. She didn't approve of him hovering over the FBI's operation, but he had flatly refused to be talked out of the idea. The one reassurance she had was that none of the weapons either side would be carrying could hurt him when he was armored up. Rising, she smoothed her hair with an automatic hand and headed for the stairs to the workshop.

But he was gone by the time she got there, and she realized that he must have had the suit already prepped. Sighing, uneasy, she folded up the shirt and pants he'd discarded and laid them on a chair, and gave into temptation. She didn't really approve of Tony's electronic eavesdropping, but not knowing was worse. "Jarvis? What's going on?"

In response, he put the radio chatter of the undercover team over the speaker system. It was a jumble of terse orders at first, but Virginia concentrated, and formed a mental picture; the suspect entering the building and taking the elevator, the team's members moving into place behind him, Cross waiting poised--and, Virginia trusted, armed--behind Virginia's apartment door.

It was weirdly tantalizing, piecing the action together at one remove. She couldn't hear gunfire, but the sudden burst of raised voices told her _something_ had happened, and the urgent call for an ambulance made her heart squeeze and the image of Cross hover in her mind's eye. _No--_

But then Cross spoke herself, a little breathless but crisp and sure; it was Yarbro who needed the ambulance.

Virginia closed her eyes and exhaled, then fumbled for another chair and sat heavily. The relief was almost incapacitating. She hadn't known just how tense she had been, even safe behind Tony's protecting walls; but the news that the man who hunted her was rendered harmless made her swallow hard and press the heels of her hands into her eyes. She wanted to cry; she wanted to laugh.

She...wanted a hug.

The thought was so absurd that she _did_ laugh, just a breath's worth, shaking off the shock and pushing herself to her feet. Any of the males in her life would have been happy to give her one, she thought, if they were handy, but Happy was finishing his medical leave and Rhodey was on assignment overseas, and Tony--

"Hey, Potts," came the voice over the speakers, as if on cue. "Were you listening?"

Virginia smiled, feeling a rush of fondness for the worst complication she'd ever met. "Yes, I was. Is he..." She faltered.

Tony's voice was a touch grim. "He's in pretty bad shape, from what I can see. Sounds like Cross is a dead shot."

That made her shiver. "I guess...I guess it's over then."

A hiss of air, as of a breath blown out. "Guess so."

The hunger to go _home,_ to get back to her own private space, was startling. _You have things to do,_ Virginia reminded herself; extraordinary events aside, this was a working day, and life didn't stop just because of one madman. "When will you be back?"

"Not yet." Tony sounded a bit brusque. "I, uh, I'm going to run up to the range in Canada and run a few tests. Since I'm already in the air."

Translation: he was full of adrenaline and needed to burn it off. Slightly disappointed but not surprised, Virginia nodded even though he wasn't actually there. "All right. But no moose, Tony. Remember the last time."

His chuckle was short but genuine. "Like I could _forget_ it. See you in a few hours, Potts."

"Goodbye," she murmured, not even sure the connection was still running. Rubbing her arms as if at a sudden chill, she stood, trying to focus on the next task. "Jarvis? Is he okay?"

"Vital signs indicate a moderate level of stress, but no more," the AI replied calmly. "The 'tests' should help."

Blowing things up with his repulsors, and fancy flying. Well, it was far less destructive than some of his past habits. Virginia shook her head, and turned to go back upstairs, trying to estimate how long it would be before Agent Donovan called to tell her that it was finished.

* * *

Tony was checking the woods for wildlife when Jarvis patched him through to a call from the FBI. "Special Agent Donovan," he said blandly, without a hint that he'd been watching Pepper's building from above just in case things went pear-shaped. "You need something?"

"Mr. Stark." The dry tone of Donovan's voice told Tony that the agent wasn't fooled in the least, but Tony didn't care. "The suspect is in custody."

Even though he already knew that, Tony let out a sigh of relief. "Glad to hear it," he said, and meant it. "Your people okay?"

Donovan's voice warmed a fraction. "Yes, they are."

"How'd it go down?" He'd seen people go in and out, and listened to the radio chatter, but details had eluded Tony; all he knew was that Cross had shot Yarbro, presumably with good reason.

He wasn't sure Donovan would tell him, but after a second's hesitation the agent spoke. "Yarbro knocked on Ms. Potts' door in disguise, and when Agent Cross opened it he pushed his way in and attempted to shoot her. He reacted before we had our agents in place, and she was forced to return fire."

"Did he say why the _hell_ he was doing all this?" Tony felt a resurgence of the familiar fury.

"Unfortunately he was too badly wounded to communicate. He's still in surgery."

That damped the fires a bit. "Huh. Remind me not to piss Agent Cross off."

"Always advisable," Donovan replied with a trace of amusement. "In any case, Ms. Potts is now aware that she can return to her home."

"I'll call off the bodyguards," Tony said, half-tempted to keep them there out of sheer paranoia but knowing that Pepper would never permit it. "And...thank you."

The words weren't as hard to say as he thought they would be.

Donovan's tone was gentler than Tony expected. "It's our job, Mr. Stark. Good afternoon."

Tony spent the next few hours in a more thoughtful mood than when he'd arrived at his remote testing range, though he still put the suit and its latest experimental software upgrades through a thorough workout. As the sun neared the horizon, Jarvis told him that Pepper had gone home for the day, though she'd left a stack of paperwork for him at his house, and Tony rolled his eyes as he vaporized a dead tree. _Hope springs eternal, huh, Potts?_ He had _much_ more interesting things to do just now than sign things.

He was exploring the possibilities of his infrared scanners when Jarvis mentioned another call. Tony pulled up mid-flight, blinking, and realized that it was full dark. "Whosit?"

"It is an FBI number," Jarvis said, and Tony frowned, wondering why they were calling back.

"Okay, put 'em on. Hello?"

The voice was not Donovan's; it was Cross', breathless and rushed. "Mr. Stark--it's not him."

"What?" For an instant he didn't understand, and then--

_No._

"The man we had in custody died in surgery. When the coroner processed the body we found that the fingerprints weren't a match. He was a dupe."

His blood was turning to ice, horribly familiar. Cross was hurrying on. "Yarbro is still out there, and we can't get through to Virginia."

Tony became aware that the landscape below was passing by at a very high speed; either his subconscious was as terrified as the rest of him, or Jarvis was being proactive again. _"Get someone there."_

"On their way, but it's going to take a few minutes--"

Tony cut the connection with a jerk of his chin. "Jarvis, get Pepper on the line, I don't care if you have to hijack every cell tower between here and Baja."

"Working," the AI replied crisply. Tony poured on every bit of power he could muster, pushing the limits of the suit's capabilities and praying desperately that he, that _someone_ would get there in time.

"I have a connection," Jarvis said, and the hiss of an open carrier sounded in Tony's ears.

" _Pepper?_ Are you there?"

"Tony--" Her voice was soft.

He rode right over whatever she was going to say. "Pepper, it was a ringer, it wasn't Yarbro! Get out of there, get out _now._ I'm on my way--"

" _Tony."_ It was a hard whisper. "I know."

"You do?" He blinked, dizzy with sudden hope. Was she safe already? Were the--

"He's in my apartment right now," she continued, scarcely loud enough to be heard. "I have to--"

With a pop, the connection broke.


	15. Chapter 15

She should have been panicking, but for some reason Virginia's thoughts were clear. She held very still in the dimness of her bedroom, her thumb pressing down to shut off her phone, and listened to the slow footsteps moving through the living room. _I'm sorry, Tony, but I have to be quiet now._

The alarm wasn't shrieking. She didn't know what Yarbro had done to it; nor was she sure how he'd gotten in, because she would have heard if he'd kicked the door in, and so would her neighbors. _It doesn't really matter. He's_ _ **here.**_

Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a low wail of terror and rage, but she ignored it, the same way she ignored extraneous details when her job demanded the impossible. Slipping the phone into her pocket, she left the _why_ and the _how_ for later, and considered her options.

They weren't good. The only exit besides the front door was her balcony, which was off the living room; and at twelve stories high, she was a little too far above the ground to go out the bedroom window. Available hiding places were few--under the bed, inside the closet--and none would work for long. And while she was sure Tony had immediately turned for home when she'd hung up on him, he wasn't there yet. _Dammit!_

The fear surged. _You're trapped--again--just like the room--_

"I know you're here." The voice was harsh with anger, loud enough to be heard throughout her apartment, and Virginia's throat closed, because she knew that voice.

 _Three_.

"I saw you go in. I'm going to find you. Come out, and I'll make it quick." She heard contempt and resentment, and wondered wildly just what _quick_ meant to him. Would he shoot her on sight? Execute her? Or draw out his revenge? _Tony's on his way,_ she thought at him, the fear singing in her ears. _You tried to kill me because you were afraid of Iron Man, well, guess what--_

She couldn't hide for long. But could she hide long enough? How long would it take Tony to get from Canada to Malibu?

Three cursed. A hollow pop reached her ears, followed immediately by a sharp _ping_ , and she recognized the sound as a gun with a silencer. Another shot, this time with a duller thud, and she placed the noises. _He's shooting up my kitchen._

Apparently he thought she might be hiding in one of the cupboards. Abruptly the rage took over, and Virginia clenched her fists in the darkness. _How dare he?_

The thought was new, and energizing. It blew her thoughts out of their panicked circle and gave her focus. Tony was on his way, yes, but he might _not_ get there in time. And Virginia wasn't going to huddle in the darkness and pray Three didn't find her. _You had the advantage last time. Now it's_ _ **my**_ _ground._

And she knew her ground. Moving as quickly as she could without making noise, Virginia bent to the pile of sheets that Alex had stripped from the bed and left folded tidily on the mattress, taking the top one and tucking it under her arm. Then she darted across the bedroom and snatched up the little gargoyle that had been a college graduation gift years ago, that sat on her windowsill to glower at the pigeons that flew past. It wasn't stone, but it was heavy; it would have to do.

The only real hiding place was under the bed, which was useless for her purposes. Virginia stepped behind the half-open door instead, shaking out the sheet and holding it ready and praying that Three wouldn't realize she might repeat a trick.

"Where are you?" the hard voice drawled, and she had to set her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering; Three was coming down the hall. "Where are you, you little bitch? Damn _bitch_ \--"

He trailed off into a rant Virginia would just have rather not have heard, and she flinched at a sudden bang, guessing an instant later that he'd thrown open the bathroom door. The rattle of the shower curtain confirmed her suspicions.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her trembling. _When did I start shaking?_ she thought absurdly, and shoved the distraction away. The rage surged as she heard the pop of more shots, and the crunch of splintering wood. What the bullets were doing to the towels in her linen closet--

There were more clicks, and it took Virginia a moment to recognize the sound as a gun being reloaded. She swallowed, and braced herself, waiting, praying to hear the scream of Iron Man's repulsors, but there was nothing.

_Suck it up, Virginia. Save yourself._

She heard his breathing just in time to press herself back against the wall. The door, shoved wide, actually bounced off the tips of her toes, but Three was already through it, and Virginia didn't give herself time to think. She stepped around it in one smooth motion and threw the sheet over his head.

The move went better than she'd dared hope. He threw up his arms, flinching hard, and as if she'd rehearsed it a dozen times Virginia swung the gargoyle at where she guessed his head was, putting as much force into it as she could.

The clunk was less satisfying, and Three yelped, thrashing. Frantic, Virginia hit him again, and again, hammering at the vague shape that was his head. It felt like a nightmare, struggling with a monster that just wouldn't _die_ \--

Three staggered, tottering. Virginia hit him once more, and then tackled him, throwing all her weight as high as possible, and to her astonishment they both fell. She rode him down to the floor, scrambling, jamming her knees into his midsection and pressing down as hard as she could. He was cursing, clawing and kicking, but she seemed to have him face-down, and with the sheet pinned half-under him he couldn't get his head clear.

She wasn't exactly _thinking,_ but somewhere in the thrashing panic was the knowledge that her advantage would be short. He was stronger and heavier, he would throw her off in a moment unless she could _stop_ him somehow.

The gargoyle was lying on the carpet two feet from her knee. Virginia snatched it up and brought it down on the hand clutching the gun.

His scream was startling, and satisfying. She tossed her poor statue aside and grabbed, yanking the weapon away and prompting another inarticulate sound. Automatically checking to see if the safety was off, she jammed the top-heavy barrel of the silencer against the heaving shape beneath her. _"Don't move."_

Three shuddered to a stop, lying tense under her grinding knees. "You--"

"Shut up." She pressed harder. "I've got my finger on the trigger and if you move I will pull it." Her voice was shaking and squeaky, and Virginia swallowed hard and hoped he would believe her. "Whether I mean to or not."

She could _feel_ the rage rising up from him, waves of it hot and nauseating, but he held still. Virginia tightened her arm muscles to try to steady her hands and wondered how long she could hold out. _If he tries anything, my finger will jerk and I'll shoot him anyway._

It wasn't much comfort.

Her phone was still in her pocket, but she couldn't figure out how to fish it out without moving her weight or the gun. She could feel Three shifting slightly under her, and shoved the unwieldy barrel deeper. "Don't _move._ "

The situation was untenable. He was going to try something, Virginia knew it, but there was nothing she could--

She didn't hear the repulsors. What she heard was a splintering crash from the direction of her living room and a thump that shook the floor, and then Tony's augmented voice bellowing in a tone as frantic as her own heartbeat. _"Pepper!"_

All the panic streamed out of her and away. Beneath her knees, the muffled form of Three stiffened and seemed to shrink, and Virginia let out a laugh that was adrenaline and relief. "In here!"

She had to repeat it twice to be heard over his shouts, but then too-heavy footsteps pelted down her hallway and Iron Man burst through her bedroom door, fists clenched and the reactor in his chest plate glowing ominously. Virginia looked up at him, and thought she would like nothing so much as to give that ridiculously gaudy figure a hug. She settled for a grin instead, knowing it was more than a little wild but not caring. "Hi, boss."

His helmet popped open, giving her a good view of his face, which whipcracked from terror to shock to relief in rapid succession, finally settling on amused respect and a touch of exasperation. "Too late _again_. I swear, Potts, you're going to give me a complex."

She shook her head and relaxed, finally, her grip on the gun. "Your ego will survive. Can you find me some...I don't know, string or something? I need to tie him up."

Tony rolled his eyes, and pressed a spot on his armored thigh; a small compartment opened, and he extracted a roll of duct tape and handed it to her. She took it and slipped it over her wrist so she could put the safety on the gun, and passed the weapon to him. Tony immediately took out the magazine, tossing it onto her bed, and with one brutal movement crushed the weapon in his fist, his expression darkening.

Virginia decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and bent her head to find the end of the tape. As she squinted at it, that same heavy gauntlet touched her shoulder, gripping it with such careful delicacy that the pressure was less than that of a flesh-and-blood hand. "Are you okay?"

She looked back up at him, seeing the hard lines bracketing his mouth and a telling anguish in his eyes. "I will be. As soon as we get this garbage out of my house."

Tony accepted that as she thought he would, pursing his lips and then jerking out a short nod. "Allow me." He let her shoulder go and extended the gauntlet, offering her a hand up, and Virginia took it, wobbling to feet that had somehow gone numb. When he was sure she was steady, Tony bent down and yanked away the sheet, tumbling Three half-over in the process, then grabbed his shirt front and hauled.

The malevolent menace of the man was...gone, Virginia realized. He was _pathetic,_ dangling whimpering in the air, clawing ineffectually at the armored arm holding him two feet off the ground. The look Tony was giving him was, she had to admit, terrifying--a deep cold anger that went beyond Tony's usual flashy temper. "How'd you like to go flying with me?" Tony asked, the casual tone of his voice fooling no one. "Say, about thirty thousand feet up?"

Yarbro sputtered something, and Tony shook him like a piece of laundry. "What do you think, Pepper?" he said, still conversational. "Save us all the publicity? It'd only take five minutes to drop him off the continental shelf."

Virginia wasn't entirely sure he wasn't serious, and part of her thought it sounded like a _terrific_ idea. But she shook her head. "We owe Happy," she pointed out.

Tony sighed. "I hate it when you're right."

Her scrabbling fingers found the end of the tape. Virginia pulled a long strip loose and looked up at Yarbro, and blinked. One eye was swelling, and the side of his head and his neck were wet with blood; it had even soaked into his shirt. _I guess I_ _ **did**_ _get him._

Her attacker was a few inches taller than her, perhaps six feet, and muscled but not bulky; he had short dark hair and an unremarkable face under the bruising, and aside from the eyes fixed on her in dizzy hate, he looked _ordinary._ She blinked again, feeling vaguely as if he should bear some stigmata of evil, and stepped behind him.

"Hands behind your back," Tony instructed him, with another shake, and reluctantly their captive complied. As Virginia bent to wrap his wrists in tape, she saw that his right hand was swollen too, three of the fingers bent and one almost purple with bruising. She flashed back to the _thwack_ of the gargoyle coming down, and smiled grimly.

When Yarbro's hands were secure, she taped his feet as well for good measure, winding the tape halfway up his calves. Tony didn't bother setting him down, instead just opening his hand and letting Yarbro drop, and as her kidnapper bounced from his knees to his side on her carpet Virginia couldn't find it in herself to pity him.

"You'd better call Donovan," she said through lips that felt numb too, and held out the tape.

"They're already on their way." Tony took the roll, replacing it in his thigh pocket as he placed the call over his helmet's line, but he didn't take his eyes from her; Virginia could feel his gaze following her as she stepped past Yarbro and sat down heavily on her bed. A moment later he was standing in front of her, too tall in the armor, but without ceremony he removed one gauntlet and reached down to cup her face with his bare hand. "Potts--"

She leaned into the touch, unable to help herself--desperate for the gentle contact, for the knowledge that he was _there_. Tony made a tiny sound, as if she'd hurt him, but then the wail of multiple sirens reached them, echoing up from the street, and she straightened, his hand falling away. "They're here."

It was hours of fuss and questions, dealing with police and FBI both, though the latter ran the show. Tony behaved himself for once, answering questions with tolerable patience; he loomed large in her living room, standing behind the couch where Virginia sat, and she wasn't at all sure that he wasn't guarding her even though the only threat was quickly taken away in handcuffs. Agent Cross made coffee at Virginia's request--after all, she knew where the machine was--and photos were taken of her apartment, from the damaged door to the bullet holes to the snow of glass where Iron Man had smashed in through her balcony doors. _You're going to pay to have them replaced,_ she'd told him severely the moment she'd seen them, and he'd shrugged at the foregone conclusion, _Of course; would you prefer titanium bars, Potts, because I'm running a special--_

It was endless and exhausting, after a very full day, and Virginia felt her temper growing shorter and shorter. But underneath it all was a wondering, dizzying _triumph._ _He's really gone._

_I did it._

_**Me.** _

Being Tony Stark's personal assistant generated a lot of self-confidence--it was no job for someone not sure of their own abilities--but taking Yarbro down had worked some alchemy in her, it seemed. All the power he'd taken from her by kidnapping her had rebounded, three-fold.

_I...won._

It was past midnight before everyone packed up and left. Virginia looked around at the living room, at the glass and the coffee cups, and sighed. "Ugh."

"You can't stay here tonight," Tony pointed out practically. He was still in the armor, looking almost as tired as she felt.

"I guess not. Maybe I should get a hotel room," she said, just to tease him, and he was halfway through a protest before her smirk tipped him off.

"Oh, funny. Pack a bag, Potts, looks like you get a room at the Stark Waldorf one more night."

Virginia complied, irritated at having to give up her territory again but too tired to gripe. The adrenaline rush had finally subsided, leaving her limp and achy, and she wanted a bed more than she wanted to stay in her own space, if barely.

When she came back out to the living room, her little duffle in hand, Tony was fitting his gauntlet back on. "I've got a security man outside your door, and Tristan's waiting downstairs," he said.

Virginia eyed his metal casing. "Are you riding back?"

He snorted. "I'd ruin the upholstery. Want to take the speed elevator?"

She frowned. "The what?"

His sudden grin should have been warning, but Virginia was too tired to catch it soon enough. Before she could protest, Tony scooped her up, one arm beneath her back and the other under her knees, and she squawked and yanked her bag to her chest. " _Tony!_ What--"

"It's just a few stories," he said cheerfully, striding out through the broken balcony doors, and Virginia squawked again.

"You can't be serious--don't you need to _steer?_ "

"Not for straight down." He laughed, holding her firmly, and she thought about arguing, but it was too late--Iron Man bounced up off his toes and over the railing, and then they were--

\--Floating. The incipient rush of panic failed as Virginia realized they were descending at a rate that was probably the equivalent of a walking pace. Fortunately, she'd never been afraid of heights; nonetheless, she clutched her bag tightly and held very still.

There wasn't much to see since they were too high for the streetlights, but as they dropped Tony somehow rotated slowly, so her building came into view. Brightly-lit glimpses of other apartments passed by, a few people still awake at this hour; once she saw someone in a recliner sit up and stare as they fell past, and she resisted the absurd urge to wave.

Then they were facing outward again, and she looked down to see the street growing closer, islands of light showing cars and asphalt but--perhaps fortunately--no pedestrians. It felt dreamlike, almost relaxing; maybe it was the darkness, but Virginia was nearly convinced she could fly on her own if she just tried...

Tony touched down with a clank, and the hiss of the repulsors shut off, ending her reverie. With care, he set her on her feet next to the waiting limousine; Tristan, standing next to the vehicle, didn't look surprised, but then he was almost as unflappable as Happy. He stepped forward for her bag, and she turned back to her boss.

"You'll probably beat us back," she said, looking up; he was taller than she in the suit, and it felt weird.

He cocked his head, substitution for the shrug he couldn't make. "I'll fly slow. See you there, Pepper."

Virginia reached up and slid her hand past the frame of his helmet to cup his cheek. "Be careful, Tony."

As she had earlier, he leaned into her touch, and his eyes were lambent. She let her thumb stroke the line of his cheekbone, then stepped back.

His lips quirked, and then the visor of the helmet dropped down, hiding him from view. Virginia retreated further, to get out of range, and with a twist of his wrists and a roar that echoed, he was up and away, a comet in reverse heading for the stars so far overhead.

She sighed, and turned to let Tristan help her into the car. The ride wouldn't be long; she settled back against the plush seat and tried to decide when to have Jarvis wake her in the morning.

* * *

Tony shadowed the car all the way back home. It wasn't difficult, even from such a height; the little blip that was its tracking beacon glowed on his HUD, and the hardest part was going slowly enough to stay with the vehicle. But he couldn't bear to let it out of his sight.

_That was too damned close, Pepper._

It hadn't been what he'd expected, smashing into her apartment to find her _sitting_ on her assailant, armed and in control of the situation; though, on reflection, he had to wonder why he _hadn't_ expected it. _Given what she's done already, what made you think she couldn't handle that?_ Still, even if the princess hadn't actually required rescuing, his augmented heart was still running way too fast with residual terror.

_I can't lose you._

It had been his watchword all along, from long before he'd realized what she meant to him. Even back in the depths of his selfish, careless days, he had known she was essential somehow. And while he'd called her bluff when he'd asked her to spy for him, he'd been praying all along that she wouldn't call _his,_ because he would have had to concede.

But she hadn't.

The selfish part of him almost wished he _had_ rescued her, even though the thought of her in danger made him sick to his stomach. Pepper knew him inside and out, past and present, and she had no illusions about him, even the superhero business. But it would have been nice, Tony thought ruefully, to have actually been a hero to _her,_ even once.

In the end, though, it didn't matter. She was safe, and by all that was holy he was going to try to _keep_ her safe. As safe as their flight down from her apartment, when she'd lain so trustingly in his arms. He wished he could have snuck in a hug at least, but the suit wasn't built for it--clearly a design flaw he would have to address.

When the limousine pulled up in front of the mansion, Tony dropped out of the sky and down to his workshop, knowing that Tristan would see Pepper safely inside. And she appeared as the 'bots stripped away the last the armor, pushing through the stairwell door with a bottle of sports drink and handing it to him as he stepped off the assembly platform. "Since you missed dinner," she said wryly.

Tony saluted her with it and took a few swallows. "What about you?"

"I'm not hungry; all I really want is sleep." Pepper rubbed her forehead, running her hand back through her short hair in a gesture that was becoming habit. "We'll have to do another press release in the morning."

He frowned at her. "That's all you'll do. You get a day off, Potts, and no arguments."

Pepper pursed her lips, more amused than annoyed. "For once, I'm not inclined to argue. Do you need anything before I go to bed?"

The question was so professional, so _distancing,_ that it actually hurt. Tony held back a flinch. "No, I'm going to hit the sack myself, after I shower."

She nodded, and he expected her to walk away, but she didn't, instead pausing with a strange expression on her face--half-introspection, it seemed to him, and half-dare. Then she startled him entirely by stepping forward and pulling him into a hug.

The feel of her arms wrapping around him, her body pressed close, was a painful bliss. Tony enveloped her carefully in return, unmindful of his sweaty coverall and barely remembering to keep a grip on the bottle. She was solid despite her slenderness, warm and real and _there,_ and ah, it hurt, so sweet--

"Thank you," Pepper muttered into his shoulder. "I was just about to lose it when you got there, Tony--I don't know what I would have done, I didn't want to shoot him but..."

He held her tighter, turning his head enough to press his face into her hair, soft against his cheeks. His glib tongue failed him; the only answer he could muster was a clumsy kiss on those strands and the hope that she didn't feel the faint tremble in his muscles.

They stood a long time without moving, as if the events of the evening were a poison that their embrace leached away. But finally Pepper's arms loosened, and Tony made himself let her go as she pulled back. Her hair caught on his stubble as he lifted his head, and Pepper breathed a laugh as she reached up to brush it away.

"Get some sleep, okay?" she told him, her voice soft as well. "I'll see you in the morning."

Unable to resist, he picked up her hand and kissed that too. "I'm glad you're okay, Pepper."

The smile she gave him was wobbly but genuine. "Me too."

He watched her climb the stairs out of sight, then headed for his shower, trying not to think how easy it would be to slip into her room and watch her sleep.

* * *

The sun woke her, easing beams across the floor to touch her face. Virginia rolled over in the big guest bed and stretched, feeling much more relaxed than she had expected to. Nerves exposed by Yarbro's attack had been soothed by sleep, and the nightmares she'd anticipated hadn't appeared. Despite everything, the day presented a cheerful aspect, and for once she wasn't annoyed by having nothing to do.

When she felt awake enough, she climbed out of bed and went in search of breakfast. Coffee and toast were easy to find in the kitchen; nibbling on a pear, she leaned against the kitchen counter. "Jarvis, is Tony awake?"

"He is not," the AI replied. "Do you wish me to wake him?"

"No." Virginia took another bite. The house's quiet was a gift this early in the morning, and Tony needed sleep.

It was a simple matter to put together a press release regarding the events of the day before and e-mail it to her assistant for release. They would have to provide more in-depth information later, she knew, but it would do for the moment. She added a quick personal note--Cedric was no doubt worried--and finished her coffee.

Fed and caffeinated, yawning a little, Virginia headed back towards her room for a shower, detouring towards the master bedroom along the way. It was an old habit, to check up on him after some event had brought him home drunk or stoned or accompanied--or later, battered and bloody--even though Jarvis would alert her if anything were wrong. It was part of her job, to know his condition so that she could adjust his day appropriately.

But it didn't feel professional, this time, to lean on the doorjamb and look in on him sprawled on his stomach in the huge bed, one leg poking out from under the sheet and his head buried under the pillow. It felt personal, and not just because she was wearing pajamas.

And in that moment, she knew.

Virginia turned around and went back to her suite, walking straight into the bathroom and stripping off her clothes to bathe. The shower wasn't as big as the one in Tony's bathroom, but it was twice the size of her own, and she stood under the spray, eyes closed, thinking ahead. It wasn't that her doubts had vanished, exactly, but they were all but silent. Anticipation welled in her as she washed; a breathless, quiet eagerness that was unfamiliar but welcome.

_Yes._

Tony was still asleep when she returned, snoring faintly, the pillow pushed aside. Virginia took a moment to just look at him, dear in his vulnerability; aware that she could turn around and leave.

She didn't. She stepped forward and slipped into the big bed next to him. It was the right thing to do; she felt it as a certainty, the best way to prove that she _did_ trust him.

She wasn't sure what would happen, but within minutes Tony's eyes opened, slowly widening with surprise--almost as they had in her own apartment, her own bed.

But this time she was on his level, smiling at him from the other pillow, and this time when he reached out to touch her Virginia met his hand with her own, lacing their fingers together. "Hi," she whispered.

He held her gaze for a long time, searching her eyes and her soul behind them, but she didn't flinch. And finally his hand tightened on hers, and he moaned softly, a sound of utter relief.

His kiss was slow, gentle to start with, a warm caress that Virginia returned wholeheartedly. Then Tony was pressing her to her back, his mouth coaxing hers open in a kiss much more sensual. She shuddered beneath him, realizing anew what she had known for some time--that Tony Stark had a reputation for a _reason_.

And yet, she thought dazedly as his hand traced her face and sank into her hair, she would bet that he had never kissed anyone quite like this before. Because she could sense the love in every touch, in the way his hand shook, in the glitter in his eyes as he pulled back to look at her.

"Pepper," he said hoarsely, as if searching for words, and she reached up and cupped his face in her own hands.

"I love you," she told him, and pulled him down for another kiss.

Tony whimpered once against her mouth, and then took control of things with tender determination. Her top came off and his hands started exploring the newly exposed skin, and she shivered, freefalling into sensation.

He mingled her nickname with the press of his lips against her skin, counting freckles with each kiss, smiling when the rub of his beard made her arch up and moan. Virginia felt like each touch was a blessing, a reverence of sorts, making her his in some irrevocable fashion; but it was only fair, because he was already hers.

She opened herself up to him, giving him the trust he desired so much. Tony peeled away the rest of her clothing with slow care, eyes wide and hands deft, and she felt cherished as well as desired. He was wearing nothing at all, and she snatched her own chances to explore, but he made it difficult, finally catching both her hands and smiling at her, a smile that crinkled his eyes and made her heart ache. "Will you just let me do this, Pepper? Please?"

"Not fair," she murmured, leaning up to kiss him again, and he laughed against her mouth, a quiet muffled joy.

"You can have a turn...later." He pressed her hands gently to the sheet beneath them, and she allowed it, the last vestiges of shyness dissolving in the heat of his gaze. Tony took his time, arousing her with a deliberation that bespoke a delight she'd never seen in him before; not until she was on the point of begging did he slip inside her, burying his face in her shoulder and clutching her tightly.

This time, she cried too.


	16. Chapter 16

She was asleep again.

Tony propped his head on his hand, elbow denting the mattress, and just watched, all his wistfulness replaced with a wondering satisfaction that filled him to the brim. Pepper lay facing him, her hair mussed, her throat pink where his beard had scratched her; she had one arm tucked under her head and a tiny smile on her lips, and he wanted to gather her up and kiss her awake, make that smile widen and make her laugh.

He contented himself with brushing the tumbled hair from her eyelids, lingering with the lightest of touches along her temple and her cheek. He _could_ touch now. The thought alone was worth savoring.

Waking to find her beside him had felt like a dream, and for a moment Tony hadn't been sure that it wasn't one, but no dream could be so solid, or so sweet. No dream could fill him to overflowing with stunned, awed delight, with the crazy delirious knowledge that at last she'd said _yes._

No dream could ever make him feel this safe. This proud. This, as cliché as it was, complete.

Nor, he had to admit, this horny, but that was a separate issue and one he could put off for the moment. It was pretty much a default state around Pepper anyway. Right now just basking in her presence, asleep or not, was more important. Time enough later to do everything he wanted to do...and there was a _lot_ he wanted to do.

Mouth quirking, Tony let his gaze travel over all that he could see of her, taking in the tiny details greedily. Her freckles went a good deal lower than he'd imagined, for instance; there were even a few on her tummy, and he carefully kept back a hand that wanted to play connect-the-dots. The creamy shoulder uppermost had a faint old scar, a thin white line; he immediately wondered what had caused it, and how long ago.

Her breasts, on the other hand, were pretty much exactly as he'd imagined them, though he suspected she thought them too small; perfect, in his eyes. Her face was softer in sleep than he remembered, more relaxed.

It hurt, this new happiness, putting an ache behind his arc implant and a tightness in his throat, but it was all of a piece, and he didn't try to push it away. Tony was used to pain; if joy came freighted with it, he would not refuse.

He couldn't resist any longer. Slowly, slowly, he leaned closer, needing to satisfy more than his eyes. _Don't wake her,_ his inner voice warned, and he held back, just closing his eyes and inhaling the scent that rose from her skin, soap and sex and _Pepper_ \--

Her voice was soft and slightly raspy, and amused. "Are you _sniffing_ me?"

Tony rolled back enough to meet her eyes, grinning without shame. "Yep." With ease, he scooped Pepper into his arms, falling onto his back and carrying her with him. She laughed down at him, letting her leg slip between his as if they'd done it a thousand times before, and Tony filled his hands with the velvet firmness of her backside, completely unabashed by his body's enthusiasm. "You smell good."

She shook her head, arms braced carefully on his chest just below his arc implant. "I'm not sure I want to think about that too hard." Before Tony could argue, she bent to place a soft kiss on his lips. "But as long as we're on the subject," she murmured, a scant inch away, "so do you."

"Obsession," he joked, and returned the kiss with interest, almost protesting when Pepper lifted her head again. Her expression was thoughtful, and she looked down at the casing embedded in his chest, touching it with careful fingers.

Tony sobered, though he didn't release her. Pepper had never really had a chance to examine the thing; sure, she'd plugged him in a couple of times, but neither time had been conducive to exploration, and he felt a sudden rush of doubt. Would the damn thing turn her off? It wasn't as though she didn't know it was _there,_ but when you got down to it, having a power source stuck through the breastbone wasn't in any way natural, and--

But her face didn't change; she just studied it for a long moment, as if familiarizing herself with the curve of the metal and the glow of the lights, and then sighed. "Most people just get a tattoo, you know."

His eyes widened, and then the laugh burst out of him, incredulous and relieved. Pepper grinned at him, downright wicked, and he hugged her hard, running one hand up into her hair to press her closer. She giggled against his shoulder, and Tony stared up at the ceiling, feeling his eyes sting. "Pepper--"

She kissed his neck, quick and hot, and pushed up again. "Ready to get up and face the day?"

He snorted, humor returning, and lifted his hips a fraction under hers. "I'm already up. And I gave you the day off, remember?"

Pepper smirked at him. "Oh, so I should just go home?"

It was easy to pull her head gently down to his once more. "Not a chance," he mumbled against her lips. His hands began relearning all the delectable surfaces he'd mapped earlier, but Pepper wriggled, which made his eyes cross.

"I believe you made me a promise, Mr. Stark." She lifted an admonitory brow.

"I did? Oh, yeah, I did." He cocked a brow, and let his arms fall back to the mattress, palms up next to his head. "There you go, Potts. I'm at your mercy. Which, come to think of it, is different from every day, how?"

Pepper pursed her lips, her eyes crinkling. "I'll demonstrate."

Surrender, Tony thought as she did, could be a very, _very_ good thing.

* * *

It was surprising how easily they made the transition into lovers, Tony thought over the next few days--but then, this was Pepper, who specialized in making things smooth. Her apartment doors were repaired, and she moved back home, but half the time Tony found himself spending the night there with her, biding his time until he could talk her into moving back in with him. It was a first for him, staying in someone else's territory once the lovemaking was over, but it seemed natural; he had no desire to slip away and get back to his own business.

Part of it was that lingering need to know she was safe; part of it was a hunger for Pepper's presence that was only partly fed by their usual working day. It made him feel vulnerable, which was uncomfortable, but Tony didn't fight it. He'd never been in love before, and something in him wanted to experience every part of it, even the less pleasant bits.

It was worth savoring, as much as hearing Pepper tell him she loved him.

Things slowed down gradually. Tony set a private detective on the track of the migrant workers who had cared for Happy after Pepper's kidnapping, and it didn't take long for the woman to come back with a list of names and addresses. Tony went alone to visit each one; his Spanish wasn't as good as his Japanese, but he could make himself understood, and while the rewards weren't as large as the one he'd given the Franklins, they were generous. _It's necessary._

With Pepper's permission, he put the same detective on the track of the camper whose abandoned site had saved his assistant, but results were slower in coming. Whoever had left behind the tent and supplies had apparently been camping without a permit, and it would take time to find out the facts.

Happy returned to work, limping slightly for a couple of weeks but standing straight. Tony made sure the bonus attached to his next paycheck was as fat as Happy would accept, and nobody said anything, but it was clear that things were back to normal. Rhodey blew back into town, and was equal parts horrified at the near-disaster he'd missed and smug at the news that Tony and Pepper were in a relationship. Tony rolled his eyes and snarked back; Pepper gave Rhodey her usual serene smile and threatened to set him up on a blind date with the dumbest woman she knew if he didn't stop teasing them.

And they waited for Justice's slow progress.

* * *

In the end, Virginia did make an appointment with a counselor. She went about it carefully, mentioning it to Tony in a tone that told him comment was not welcome; and he, paying attention for once, merely nodded and went on to the next subject, though she saw relief flicker swiftly across his face.

Dr. Choi was actually Virginia's second choice, after her first proved to be a personality mismatch. The counselor was a small elderly woman with the clear, nonjudgmental gaze of the professional listener, and it really was a relief to tell the whole story to someone who had no emotional investment in it, who placed no demands. She let Virginia jump from topic to topic, occasionally inserting a guiding question, and assured her that the mood swings were normal and would pass off in time.

The appointments unknotted much of the tension that had remained after Yarbro's capture, and let Virginia look at the entire kidnapping with a more dispassionate gaze. Dr. Choi reiterated Tony's assertion that none of what had happened was Virginia's fault; some guilt remained, but she could deal with it. The fact that Happy's recovery was rapid and complete helped.

She didn't heal, exactly, not all at once. But she was strong enough to go on.

* * *

It was weeks before Donovan called to say that Yarbro was being arraigned. Virginia didn't know why it had taken so long, but she didn't much care, either; the thought of him safely incarcerated and under the supervision of the special agent was enough.

But when she closed her phone she decided that she wanted to observe. Maybe it was closure, maybe it was just the petty desire to emphasize her victory; but she wanted to be there to see the man in defeat. And Tony, who had never been the self-effacing type, insisted on coming along.

They made a strange solemn party, Virginia thought as they climbed the courthouse steps--three of them, she and Tony and Happy. Tristan had stopped by to handle the driving one more time, and Happy had loomed large and uncomfortable in the back of the limo with them, but he had as much right as she to be there, Virginia thought.

There were reporters outside the courthouse, of course; Iron Man's kidnapped personal assistant wasn't at the top of the news any longer, but the incident hadn't faded from the memory of the Fourth Estate. But all three of them were old hands at shouldering through a press mob without turning a hair or making a comment, and if Tony's arm was curved around the small of her back, it could be seen as nothing more than courtesy.

Inside, the building was busy, normal for a weekday. They threaded their way to the designated courtroom, Happy automatically slipping into his bodyguard's habit, but aside from a few stares no one paid too much attention to them.

The big room beyond the double doors was half-full; there were more arraignments than Yarbro's taking place, and he wasn't even in the room as yet. The three of them settled into seats near the front--Virginia found herself maneuvered less than subtly into the middle spot--and they set themselves to wait.

The arraignments seemed to go fairly quickly. There were a few longer ones where one attorney or the other would ask some complicating question of the judge, but on the whole each one took only a few minutes, a smooth-worn ceremony where everyone knew the steps. At one point Virginia looked around and was not surprised to spot Agent Cross sitting across the aisle, though she didn't see Donovan.

Yarbro was brought out with no more ceremony than any other accused, though Virginia saw the judge--a man almost as wide as he was tall--glance their way. Tony stiffened beside her, and Happy was very still; Virginia raised her chin a fraction and watched.

But as before, whatever power her kidnapper had held was gone. He looked shrunken somehow, his shoulders bowed and his hands cuffed in front of him; the black eye she'd given him was gone, but two of his fingers were splinted.

She studied him for a moment, seeing him for the first time in a space free of emotional turmoil. He was perhaps ten years older than she, his expression sullen; there was nothing showing to indicate the obsession that had driven him to try to kill her. It seemed unfair, somehow; part of her wanted to see the mark of a monster in his face.

The charges were many, ranging from assault to kidnapping to attempted murder to conspiracy, and Yarbro stared into space as they were listed, impassive and still. His lawyer, a tall slender man whose age Virginia couldn't pin down, looked utterly professional, unemotional without being bored, and Virginia wondered if he was hired, or a public defender. It seemed odd, now, that she knew so little about the man who'd done so much to her.

She was utterly surprised when he pled guilty.

Tony whistled softly as the plea was accepted and Yarbro was marched off to await sentencing. Virginia blinked at her kidnapper's disappearing back, floored. She'd expected him to fight the charges as fiercely as he'd struggled to take her down, but…he hadn't. It was almost disappointing, though the idea immediately made her impatient with herself.

But as the door closed behind Yarbro she heard Happy let out a long sigh, barely audible, and without looking she reached over and squeezed his hand. He returned the pressure, big fingers gentle, and she felt something in her relax at last.

"Agent Cross," Tony said, very respectfully, and Virginia turned back to see Alex standing in the aisle next to their seats, looking as composed as always. Virginia smiled, and Alex smiled back, the slightly puckish look that made her seem just a touch fey.

"Donovan says hello," she said, which made Tony snort; her smile deepened. "He thought you should know that Yarbro decided to plead guilty for a lighter sentence."

Tony straightened, and Virginia pulled in a breath, a little alarmed, but Alex shook her head. "Fifty to seventy-five years rather than life. Even with good behavior, you don't have anything to worry about for at least a few decades."

Behind Virginia, Happy sighed again, but Tony frowned. "Should have been--"

Virginia laid a hand on his arm. "I'm glad to hear it," she said firmly, and met the agent's eyes squarely, putting into her gaze the words that didn't belong in the courtroom. "Thank you, Alex."

Cross tilted her head, acknowledging. Virginia let Tony go. "Do you know how he figured you out?"

The agent's lips tightened. "Random human error. He overheard one of your neighbors talking about how 'different' you looked and put two and two together." She looked more exasperated than upset with the slip-up. "The decoy was a test; I don't think he expected to actually be _right._ "

Tony snorted again, but didn't comment. Virginia smiled at Alex. "I'm glad it's over, frankly."

Alex smiled once more. "Me too. Take care," she told all three of them, and was gone.

Virginia let out her breath. _I guess I'll never know_ _ **why**_ _._ What about her had obsessed the man to the point that he had destroyed his own life in an effort to bring her down? She couldn't see a good reason for it.

But she didn't have to. It was one of the things she'd discussed with Dr. Choi, rationality and hate and the need to have all the answers. And while _why_ might always be an itch in the back of her mind, Virginia was willing to let the question go now.

_He can't hurt us any more. Any of us._

Once again, it was enough.

* * *

"What do you think?" Tony asked his companions as they came out of the courthouse, sliding on his sunglasses. "Lunch out to celebrate? There's that new sushi place…"

Happy looked horrified. Pepper pursed her lips thoughtfully, then shook her head. "You know what? I don't think we should give him that much credit."

"I agree," Tony said instantly. "He's forgotten, business as usual--as soon as we make it to the car, that is…" As the reporters descended, or rather ascended the stairs, he cocked a brow at Happy, who immediately stepped in front of them. But Pepper reached out to lay a hand on the big man's arm.

"Do you mind if I make a statement now?" she asked Tony quickly, keeping her voice low. "I'd rather get it out of the way--"

"By all means." Tony shifted back half a step, letting Pepper take point, but placing himself close enough behind her that no one would be able to get too near. Happy flanked her on the other side, and the reporters, recognizing the stance, foamed to a halt in front of them, waving mikes and asking for comment.

Pepper, veteran of a thousand such even if she was rarely the one speaking, didn't bother raising a hand for silence; she just waited, and after a few seconds the reporters fell silent. Tony watched her from behind the shelter of his shades, admiring, because while he could play the press like a virtuoso, her quiet firmness could be just as effective. Her voice didn't seem loud in the warm air, but it carried well.

"Speaking as a victim of Mr. Yarbro's crimes, I am satisfied to see him remanded to custody for sentencing," she told the cameras and the eager faces. "The police and the FBI have done an excellent job in capturing him--" Her lashes flicked down, a tiny tease only Tony could interpret. "--With, of course, the help of Iron Man."

She glanced at Happy, and apparently received a signal Tony didn't catch. "Mr. Hogan and I are ready to put this behind us, and we trust that the public and the press will respect our wishes in this matter. Thank you."

Of course, no one did; they were all three instantly deluged with questions ranging from relevant requests for more detail to provocative queries about the relationship between Tony and Pepper. The latter was nothing they hadn't heard before, but as Happy cleared a path for them towards the limo waiting at the bottom of the stairs, Tony was a little surprised to hear a suggestive question or two concerning the relationship between his personal assistant and his _chauffeur._

Those startled him, and as they escaped into the limousine Tony saw the scarlet rimming Happy's ears and realized that if Pepper wasn't already in a relationship with himself, he might actually have wondered--

He shook off the thought. She _was,_ and while neither of them had spoken of anything long-term, as far as Tony was concerned it was going to be as permanent a relationship as he could make it. He wasn't quite sure how, but he was determined. _Need you, Pepper. Always._

His train of thought was interrupted, though, as the limo pulled away into traffic and Pepper sighed, fastening her seatbelt before sliding over to lean against him. Surprised again--she was chary of affectionate gestures where anyone else could see--Tony put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, savoring the sensation of her relaxing weight. Opposite them, Happy gazed out the side window, his expression tired but relieved.

Something deep in Tony's brain relaxed too, and he let himself smile.

* * *

Still, the problem preyed, until he had to give up on his usual projects that afternoon in the basement and putter around with the Shelby, still half-disassembled. It seemed like a simple matter, just open his mouth and ask-- _Hey, Pepper, will you move in with me? Permanently, this time?_

But something about it didn't feel right. Somehow they'd managed to stumble into a relationship without actually discussing it in so many words, and the bald, almost flippant request felt…trivial. And whether he admitted it out loud or not, Tony took Pepper's love for him very seriously indeed.

He worked steadily on the car, trying to feel his way through the puzzle. _How do I get her to take_ _ **me**_ _seriously? Propose?_

The idea appealed, more than he had anticipated, but Tony wasn't sure that was the answer either. He frowned and pried loose another fragment, unsure. _Pepper…_

The beep of the door opening pulled him from reverie, and Tony rose from his crouch, reaching for a rag and wiping his hands as he watched Pepper cross the garage towards him. She was still dressed for the working day, at heels that brought them about eye to eye, and as she neared he screwed up his courage and spoke.

His "We need to talk" ran right into her "Tony, I think we--" and mingled, and they both laughed, and it gave him an odd pang to realize she was as nervous as he. "Ladies first," he managed, turning one palm up.

"No, you first," she demurred, shifting her weight to one leg, which made her hip tilt in a very distracting manner.

"Is it work?" Tony asked, and Pepper shook her head.

"No, I'm finished, I was just going to ask if you wanted to do dinner before I head home, but--"

"I want you to stay," fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. Pepper blinked.

"I have some stuff I need to do at home, but you're welcome to come along if you want..." She broke off as Tony reached for her hand.

"That's not what I meant. I want you to _stay,_ " he repeated, holding her fingers tightly, as if she might slip away before giving him an answer.

"You mean move in." It was somewhere between a statement and a question, and he looked down at her slender fingers, realizing abruptly that he was leaving greasy prints on her knuckles.

Irritated at himself, Tony loosened his grip and dabbed at the smears with the rag. "Yeah. That's what I mean."

Her other hand moved into his field of vision and took the rag gently. Her fingers slipped free and she cleaned the grease off with a few efficient swipes, then took _his_ hand in hers and did the same for him. "Is that what you really want?"

He flexed his fingers carefully, then dared to look up at her. "Yes."

Pepper gave him half a smile, a soft expression, and let his hand go. "Then I'll move in."

It should have been a relief, but it wasn't. Tony drew his brows together, trying to understand. "What do _you_ want?"

She turned away, rag in hand, and moved toward one of the trash cans that populated his workshop. "Moving in sounds fine, Tony. Do you want to take bets on how long it takes the press to notice?"

Her voice was light as she dropped the rag into the trash, but the fact that she was facing away from him made Tony suspicious. With a few long strides he was behind her, cupping her shoulders in his hands without regard for her pristine suit. "That's not an answer."

Pepper hesitated so long that fear started to coil in his belly like a worm. Then she turned in his grip, her face serious, though her hands came up to rest on either side of his arc reactor in the familiar touch. "I know. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

He let his hands slide down to her hips, pulling her just a bit closer and ignoring the usual response to such proximity. "And?"

"I take my cues from you, Tony. Which isn't really healthy in a relationship, not all the time. I have to ask…what do you have in mind for--for us?"

Mesmerized, he watched Pepper's throat move as she swallowed, and realized that she was as scared as he was. And that there was room for nothing but the truth. "I want you to never leave me again."

On the heels of that came another clarity, one so huge he wanted to hit himself for being just that oblivious. "I love you."

He'd never said it. Never told her. Somehow he'd managed to completely leave that out, and he was going to have to kill himself for it, but later, because the brush of her long exhale against his skin and the way her lips were curling up, shy and sure and sweet, was far more important at the moment.

He had to kiss her, like he had to breathe. After that, it was all like flying, a starlit sky with Pepper in his arms once more, and he was content.


	17. Epilogue

The grave marker was relatively new, flush with the bright green grass of the sunlit cemetery. Virginia could read it without bending: _Peter Lucado, 1939-2009, Loving Husband, Loving Father._

There was another plaque next to it, older, bearing the name of the wife whom he'd loved, but it was Peter whom Virginia had come to see, and she looked down for a long moment before bending to lay the bouquet of lilies athwart the textured brass. "Thank you," she murmured.

Tony's private investigator had finally managed to trace the belongings at the abandoned campsite that had saved her life. Sam Lucado, a middle-aged businessman, had welcomed Virginia into his home and told her how his father--a dedicated and hardy camper even at seventy years--had nonetheless fallen and hurt himself while hiking six months prior. He'd been found within a couple of days, but a broken leg and pneumonia had overwhelmed him, and he had died before he'd told his son where his tent had been pitched.

It had waited, patient through rain and wind, for Virginia. _Without you, I might be dead._

Perhaps not; some more legitimate camper might have found her, or she might somehow have made it to the road despite it all. But the tent and its contents had been there, and she'd survived. And though she couldn't thank Peter Lucado in person, she could honor him.

A hand touched hers where it hung by her side, and Virginia laced her fingers with Tony's warm ones, smiling a little as he stepped up beside her. "You doing okay?" he asked quietly.

It was very good to be asked, and better still to squeeze his hand and answer honestly. "Yes."

Tony nodded, his usual exuberance reined in by their location, and she appreciated the restraint. "Good."

Virginia looked down once more, memorizing the shape of the plaque, and bid her rescuer a silent farewell. Then she turned to the man beside her, her lover, her friend, her hero…the man who needed her, and said so. "Ready to go?"

He drew her hand through the crook of his arm. "Yep."

Side by side, they left the graves behind, walking in step.

Together.

End.


End file.
